In the pen,
reservoirs of blood and reason,
sheathed the sword,
woven, covert shroud and hate-paled mask,
Fight the fight
with the ink that flows, risks treason,
drips and drops of love
from reservoirs to task.
Turn the tides
as moonbeams in the ether
on golden pond a liquid glow
from crimson ink,
Reverse the falls,
fill channels, churn the waters,
from reservoirs of pens
filled to the brink.
Forbid me not to stay so close,
My breath flows through your being,
Distance, strains my life
And, sanguinity, my reason.
Bloodless letting tests and strengthens
Surveys requirements and gives,
Too many darkened days and nights
When hope seeks to escape,
The blood of earth and heaven lend
A cloak with which to drape
Upon the head and all around,
Sheltering mad and sane,
Clothe in comfort and in trust,
Let life live again.
Portents point to compass north,
Or other near direction,
Conjoined bonding, blood and breath
Pulmonary venous action.