Poems ✍️

Yellow orb veils the gravid Moon...
shocking the brains of Mother Earth,

lambs lay down, eyes to the sky,
they live by congenital presage;

the world cannot rise without peace
and foresight, something the animals own-

from cages, howling forewarnings...
about drones, and the sound of changes;

so tell us, oh Seer of darkness and blight,
be these signs a prologue to hemorrhage -

of wells in the East, Israel's Sheol,
guised as six Torahs in sixty-six tongues;

and hear the lambs cry out like wolves,
they've been told they have no souls,

they'll always know before we do -
when Death pays out its deliverance

End stage, now, the opus over,
perditious symbols.... nascent;

a revelation to those who know
the final lines of John's last chapter,

in speaking of a Holy Kingdom
where lambs dine with The Host.

where all goodness be rewarded
and evil dines on forest leaf of sumac.



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Frank James Ryan Jr. / FjRw