There were days
I used to write poems

So meaningful
Ugly and bold

As examples
Of honest expression
Only time without hope
Could convey

Or enjoy like wounds
Underfoot
Leaving stones laid bear
Over distance

To walk across rocks
Trailing nonsense
Though beautifully said
While they cut

In jagged approach
Facing death

Knowing pain finds God
Standing ready

Beyond those paths
Seeking wisdoms
Every artist alone
Wanders down

Until grace itself
Offers proof
On my mind made clear
Through believing
How privileged men
Doubt their dreaming
If faith gets lost
Every page

Where life fails truth
Better told

By fearful prose
Bleeding gorgeous

Letting lethal lines
Whisper context
Between peace obscured
Silence brings

Since inspired work
Never passed
Behind closed gates
Become doorways

Into bedrooms now
Being conjured
Long before dusk
When it thrives.

• J. Pigno