14 Poems From WOODED WINDOWS By Strider Marcus Jones

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NO ROADS

with no roads on our map of conversation,
we began
without plan,
and climbed, into the branches of imagination,
past the twigs and leaves-
those apothecaries
of lost libation,
into houred improvisation-

through its desert wanting rain
after years of stasis,
in a slow camel train
searching for that oasis-
with moving dunes
and negative runes
fending off the grey
in a charmed, nomadic way.

happen then, that this cold acoustic tune,
met your luteful lagoon
of mosaical notes-
and the baton moved,
as was proved
round the wheel with ambient spokes,
conducting without rules
our forgotten fools.

somehow,
go now,
through the eye of words,
to the heart of this rhythm
and the scion of its schism;
then home, like migrating birds
into separate nests-
for now, love rests.

Copyright Strider Marcus Jones. 12th November, 2009. All Rights Reserved. 
This poem has been published in SPARKBRIGHT MAGAZINE ISSUE 5, WINTER 2010 and will be in my next book. Here is the link http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.sparkbright.org%2F&h=8af20


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