by Daniel Hess
Howl, wretched wind! Wail your woe
Shriek, foul fiends, dreadful demons, damn;
Hurl your hollow hatred at the sinless lamb
Dare, dreadful cross, your helpless heap to show
Your cooling blood to bare, your naked nails to know
Throb, hopeless head, this night is no sham
The Day is spent, the Light is dead, the Great I Am
Is hidden hasty in the tomb below.
Win, love win, grapple with the night
Live, fallen wheat, thrust ground, swell
And break forth, defeat death by death, fight
Fierce love, by laying down. Snap the spell
Of wrong. There’s no escape darkness! Light
Is streaming, curse cracking, all shall be well.
While often failing to find the right balance in time management and priorities, Daniel Hess delights in finding poetry in unexpected places and the joy of bringing it to life with words.
Photography by Kenneth Godoy