unwalked cities and unborn rivers hung in misty frames along a quiet corridor
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clouds study gravity the way saints study sin
drop the blade and wield its sheathe and your arms will go soft with forgiveness
to vanish and be remembered as a feather in someone else’s sky
river rising the pilgrim promises to wait for his turn
the ghost in the hallway wears a new face today i raise my bow and let loose a wailing arrow
the pilgrim fades into the horizon flesh melds with elemental wilderness
the poem despises the beast who writes it with bloodied hands and a heavy heart
an otherworldly gaze parries the deathblow the force of spirit against fury’s blade
a cup of silver that steams in moonlight and is always filled to the brim with godly ale
elancharan gunasekaran 