Empty Hands by Maverick
green tendrils snaking slowly ‘cross the raw wet earth
and the softly sibilant sound of hissing rain…
strangely soothing in the silent wake of storm.
leafmeal stirring in the dust that
mixing with sky-tears turns to mud
and that great tear in the sky
thunder and blood falling through, and fingers of fire
empty echoes of the rip in my chest through which my soul poured
that day truth pierced my mind.
I remember you were holding my heart
it slipped through your fingers and fell
down, down to the earth beneath.
I’m still sweeping up the shards.