Trudge of the Kings

A bitter trudge under star-faces.
The Pleiades mocking in their blueness.
The balance of Heaven swallowed whole
By the shocking bloom of the new light bursting.

Dates and figs from my soft home-glow,
The harshness now strips off my face,
Step on, another step, step-step-step.
And on the horizon, soon the keep of Herod,
The engorged candlelight,
The entrenched torches,
The firmness as it takes us all by its hold,
And cradles our bodies torn with travel.
An obsession of late with the latent dream hours,
That like the moon to the tides pulls us to our labors.