The poetry of Beto Ochoa, Prose from a spiritual warrior


The Poetry Of Beto Ochoa~ Prose from a spiritual warrior

Sunday, March 06, 2011

Oaken Dreams

What can I say
How the Shining Sun
Through a windowed wall
Lit your frame
And set to motion
Years of daring do
That I might be
The boldest feathered
Or bravest in my skills
But ever short of measure

Yet how now here
This time complete
And after motion set to step
The seeking on the road
That found the wind
Would love my face
With judgment never bared
Or that the rain would succor me
And with the wind show Mighty God
What can I say

That you had poked a hole in me
A wound still weeping
Words and tears
Now issue from that break
To find their way in scattered drops
Staining parchment new and pure
Or trail into that wind
Blown upon and to My God directed
Settled there to find me hence
What can I say

And how the one who bravely loved
Would go to fisticuffs so quick
In my defense yet not enough
Was I to hold the wilding there
Who wandered too close to tall grass
And dragged into that jungle cruel
Called to me not follow
The beasts devouring soul and flesh
Ripping life I could not heal
What can I say

The leaves turn fire
A few times yet in Oaken Dreams
To find this single tear
Brace my cheek in solo trail
That wanders into nothingness
At natures call and rule
No meaning in the line
But gentle sweetness
So hard won that broke upon
What can I say

So now I am at Sunset's door
There that one
Lighted by the windowed wall
Had set my feet upon the road
Still in that natures grace
Found there as a smile
Out of reach and cavalier
Not knowing how that touch
So cruel yet innocent
What can I say


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