What rock this cold granite
stands stone and still
no sun,
no cold,
no heated breath
nor perched bird
or crying wind
could move dead stone
no life but that trapped
deep and dark
too far from piercing eyes
too far from reaching heart
still
this day
sole pearl is there
not far but far
till glint is but a spark
and shine a dream’s dream
enough to crack old crag
till light and warmth creep
like secret ivy
breaking away the shell
and breath begins
a living pulsing sign
under the wing’ed shadow
of old Valentine
Harnessing Chaos 