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Gods

a poem about gods

If words are gods
Their temples must be the crossroads
Of silence where we wait,
Or pass by on our way through
The dusty roads to other places
With other cleaner temples.

If words are gods
Our demons must howl from the blackness,
Open-mouthed and shriveling
At the curls of sounds rising
Like smoke from fading fires,

And they spill out in liquid planes
Curving about the bones of the face,
Hardening into sheets of steel.

The half-life of our words
Must stare like sightless eyes
Long after Medusa has
Frozen them in sadness.

When the dark rooms beckon
With their keys of letters
We will follow whether or no,
Holding out arms like the blind.

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Copyright 2009 Marguerite Floyd all rights reserved