Hermes Poem

by Ariana Dawnhawk

The words are uncertain,
chancy at best. 
The magic doesn’t always come out
the way I want it to.
The paths divide endlessly.

Night comes,
and out of it laughter
wild and knowing,
pouring the stories
the unasked-for gifts-
old voices
old messages
made new
give breath
and flight
until I, too, can laugh.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s