Inheritor of the light

Where colors twine
into myriad directions, misdirection
and what really was is not real
but over analyzed.

Mary there with sun in her eyes, smiles
in secret
never unlocked but keeping Man busy
She carries the light; she owns it; she shares it
but can we hear?

The twisted logic of academics
keeps the colors swirling and laughing
as the secrets of Him the Christ
Are plain
and unseen.

Mary is there behind and before
The Rose, the new direction of an old story
the womb, the inheritance

And the tears in her eyes as she looks at the blood
dripping from thorns to her hair
Are they tears of joy?
She knows
INRI

A little snow

White and more white
can't see for the ice
where to go
what to do

The streets are either slush or ice, one is safer but which
dropping white and covering my house with golden tones glowing out from under the snow

The gold is hidden in the snow
Glittering cold
blinding illusion
and what lies below may not be what we thought.