Of Faith and Fate

I gaze over terra, beyond the boundaries

Of the swaying tree lines and washing winds,

that divide fantasy from reality,

and vigorously choke wicked courage from my lips.

I stand steady on the spilling cliff

of sweltering memories,

screaming death and defiance,

stealing faith with condemning fate,

drifting off the path of elegance and empathy.

I regain footing in free fall,

and gawk at the orange warning and smoke

exploding on the canvas beyond Hemlock and Hickory,

a reminiscence of Renaissance, Raphael, and Athens.

In this deep reminder of responsibility,

I drift on impaired air currents,

reluctantly cradling me above the forest barricades,

and into the portrait of beauty and truth.

I stand steady on the spilling cliff,

and stare sarcastically at destiny and divinity:

Accolade to fear and misfortune.

Exigency of Faith and Fate.

I stand steady, dreaming of intangible portraits

In the blockades of endless space before me.