The Reaping

by Gabriel Alexander

Poet Laureate, Okarian Sector

 

 

Brushstrokes from my daughter’s pen

Carve nascent shadows in the dawn

Carve dripping moonlight on a sea she’s never seen

Carve little spaces where we may sleep at night

Carve little spaces in me.

 

Brushstrokes from the reaper’s scythe

Carve hollows in these golden fields

Carve fruiting canes in the green vines

Carve little spaces where we may find our seeds

Carve little spaces in me.

 

Brushstrokes from the butcher’s knife

Carve canyons in the calf’s throat

Carve life from the lamb’s heart

Carve little spaces where we may sate our needs

Carve little spaces in me.

 

Brushstrokes from the wind in the trees

Brushstrokes from the pen that’s never seen the sea

Brushstrokes from the scythe whose scars give life

Carve little spaces where we may plant our seeds

Carve little spaces in me.