Of evening colors
Used by hired cherubs
To paint a wood deck.
The serum
For raising the skies
Of the eyes we share
To my Heavenly home
Comes from the leaves
Of the hillside trees
That the now dark blue
Moon and cloud-flecked deck
Overlooks.
The veins in the leaves
Are broken in the air
Of my eyes just outside
Heaven’s Door. Nature’s noise
Is a carpet at the entrance, dyed
With the leaves’ pigments after
The serum’s been drained
And death is no longer a fear.
When every leaf has been
Accounted for, their remaining
Skin is consumed. And with an appetite
For metal as well as slithering,
The ground where the grass ends is iron.
Apples rot on the rust. The seeds
Exposed are crucifixion nails.
I can see it from the heart
Of outside today.
Every rainbow’s
Sky is the sliding glass
Door of my house.
And although this scene
Has its limitations, as Demon’s
Oars row his boat across
The pond of my skylight, his
5-D Form means he’s all
The time in the world.
