After Michelangelo - Adam and God

tissue paper snow covers honeyed logs

creaking timber as I make my way toward the pre-dawn night

layers of walls, doors, light, back to shadows murky depths

inky black soot smudged upon burned glass

flames engulf in their impatient dance

settle to burn a less transient ember

shadows loom large, shifting with fickle suddenness

whispering flesh across wood equally smooth

I am swallowed in my search

the abrasive canvas blank and dry

my pen impeded, sifting through tables and textures

to quiet my mind and ease the constipated strain

unfurl the tongue that binds my will

freed through the capture, release me as I am yet unbroken

my body bakes in the burning glow

A singularity of reason

rocks sift water as trees sift the wind

above as below, without as within

the thorns of age slowly press my flesh

Time is unfair, beauty deceptive

Driven by the agony of self-pitying remorse

I seek a new plane

To transcend the despair of parity

the rot that sets in so befouling my labored illumination

the immortal mind drowning in the pedestrian smear

Does Hell lack patience in wait of my death?

Is Heaven no more than a brush away?

The self-proclaimed great mind caring not for reality

painful this state of mediocrity birthed from within

having reached for a glancing touch the hand of God

forcefully retracted in startled shame

at the nothing that meets my grasp

embarrassed, both prophets and fools