"unprotected"

great windstorms, calming waters,
tornado laden cliffs bound and gagged,
awesome heights and dreaded depths,
those tested lines and paths of love.

in a winter of rainstorms were we,
found at tree boughs, crying and cut,
burning from the open flesh of our hearts,
the stars opened rooms that had been shut.

had we strayed from the walk, terror,
glee, maniacal laughter should have came,
washing us down in a numbing trance,
but we merely faltered and kept on.

difficult to lift our heads it can be,
aging wonders taunt our marrow into brittle hoops,
handles made for climbing higher up,
forcing our souls to wander, rigid, awake.

our truth, our lives, all bring ceremony,
a knife to the table of sky-founded altars,
our blood pouring down into stone chalices.
our love is unprotected, raw, and living.

without care it dies, without air it crumbles,
balancing on a tightrope high above us, open,
able to rumble onward like the darkest thunder,
or splinter the world as a sharpened knife.

to remember how the test of time occurs, limp,
weak, surrendered to our thoughts, a beast,
we will either prove the acres of man corrupt,
or remove all doubt and prove them just.