The Path of Stone and Mud
Valentino Diaz III
the curtain of night has fallen
the path of stone and mud curves and dips
amongst the clawing skeleton fingers of the sleeping winter trees
barefoot bleeding squishing scraping along the path
a black moon holds the light
of ancient worlds casting only shadow
blind and tattered every prod of every
reaching wooden finger takes my flesh
my wake a trail of blood and cloth testify my journey
seeking solace from the dark and arduous
try to escape within myself
let slip this garment of skin
mind turning gears and wheels spinning
working making thoughts and counter-thoughts
inventing life with shapes and sounds and smells
ceaseless as the shark no comfort in my head
from pain and weariness dragging pulling as hands
from the mud calling me to rest
sleep is that way and oblivion,
consciousness like a yoke has
tied me to living and traveling
the path of mud and stone is ended at salvation
but like an infirm old man
muscles have grown weak
then real as my pain
the softest sweater threads
tickling my fingertips and outstretched I stumble on
a crooked stone erupted from the soil
splitting toe and tickling is gone
for agony and scraping palms and knees I fall
the rising path and drooping trees
close my way until a sinking tunnel
wrists encased in sticky soil can not move
sweat pours out my head and falling
from my face and hair it splashes to the ground,
sliding down my arms it pools and I begin to disappear beneath the
earth
lost, then sweet intoxication
of smooth perfumed skin raises my head
closing eyes I take breath into thirsty lungs
freeing my arms I am led by a scent
pushes legs and arms as if a wind
cutting through this deadly forest
a deafening roar and eyes are jolted
open to crashing crunch of broken trees
the guttural push and pull of deep breath
scent dispersed I flee
rocks pushing from the ground
limbs thickening intrusive batter me
flailing despair wayward branch stabbing
spinning on slick stones skidding
across the path collided a gnarled root
padding slowly surely I sense body
hovering above putrescence exhaled on my face
there is death
knowing the end sudden urge I grab,
it is the silk and thick of fluid shining hair
opening lead-hooded eyes to nothing
holding to the tactile sense rising once more
travel on the feel of it between
the webbing of my fingers comforts
wandering on until darkness that seemed
perfect deepens to a fluid,
weight pushes me in
swimming in it now limbs lost
to each other and I can not feel
myself in the fathomless black
immobile mired drowning
the path the forest the night is moving
on me and will take me unto itself
light, the path of stone and mud
path once more true sight returned
attained, and at the end are eyes
eyes the blue of dreamscape skies brighter
than a million dying stars, her eyes,
they call me to life
they are my future, casting off
the shade and pain striding forward through
the crippled forest embracing God's precious gift
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