Creature Speak

Sleepless nights 
from mental fights 
and heartfelt plights.
What do we do 
with so much?

When too many colors
are missing from the rainbow
and we need that harmony 
to close our eyes and trust
the coming morning view.

Abysses keep on growing 
in the vacancies
borne of the Great Erasing
and there are holes 
where we know
shining souls belong.

Echoes of smiles and tears 
and apparitions 
of once and future ancestors
whispering in our ears.


Blood has the same color 
every time it spills,
but oh how time changes 
how we see.

The patina of pain 
is something to behold
when it’s old enough 
to finally show.

Ripples in the earth.
Concrete-covered catacombs
and unmarked graves.

Asphalt glitters in the sun
because trapped lights 
still seek to be one. 


No sleep for the weary 
who catch every hue 
without a home, 
and every lost ghost.  

Every discorporate 
and broken soul
in search of the heart 
that was torn away
in the shock 
of the violence 

Because Love brings forth 
everything unlike itself 
to be healed.  
And if you’re not ready, 
it can feel a lot like dying.  

And it’s easy to project 
that danger 
onto someone living free.  
And tragedy begets tragedy 
when a threat is perceived.  


I learned long ago to ask 
a spirit their name, 
and if they won’t tell you, 
they have to go away.

But they all stay with me, 
and I am not afraid 
because they tell me 
their names, 
and so much more.

I don’t sleep 
when infinite shadows 
and lights are all waiting 
to be seen by one 
who understands. 

When I am waiting 
to usher everyone to the place
where Love, itself, was born.

When I can listen 
to their stories,
and help them finally find 
their place in the rainbow 
where every color belongs. 

© 2023, Sheya Forest