the steady tap-tapping of the keys
not the loud clack-clacking of the old
but the soft tap-tapping of the new

images take shape from words and special characters
layout, and flow, and content

an artist sits alone, typing illustration into being
quiet music echoing between his ears to match
the steady tap-tapping of the keys

---

rhythmic pounding thrums the building walls
like great cello strings plucked over and over again
the loud crack of jackhammer smashing concrete into bits

pieces of thought drift around the edges
of a mind filled with noisome banging
in spite of tight-sealed plugs
the hammer shatters other concentrations of concentration

the craftsman ponders his own hands, now callused
by the heavy handled hammer held down against the rock
as rhythmic pounding thrums the building walls

---

Artistry is shaped by medium
        but is not medium mere

Sea of Restlessness

Melancholy settles in around the shoulders
Like a blanket for the eyes, the light of the soul swathed in gray
Shadows and apparitious drapery between candle and holder
Puff and blow and handwave as you will; the fog (of war with fog) remains

That world is fixed, unmoving, ceaseless and secure
But here all is drifting, cast loose upon the sea of restlessness
The anchor line is taut and still the iron weight drifts and drags
No purchase on solidity, only the cost of another current dragging at the hull

Creaking permeates the inner eaves of the mind
Like timbers in the wind as the keel rocks in low grumbling waves
Weak strength against the mighty depths of a soul
Strain away and struggle all you like; the water will not bend to any will save one

Those stars are hard white crystals, far away and bright
But invisible here below, blocked by shrouds of sorrow, fear, and wonder
The sextant sits useless and the mind lists to starboard
No aim or heading, only a steady, needless drift away from heaven's needles

to Hope

silence
and solitude
are not the end of all
but mere reminders to look up
to hope

21 - 22

21

Though darkness came this year, and pain
it has not cast us down nor any battle won,
and clouds there are that gather still
but cannot kill the sky nor hide the rising sun

Through trial, tempest, shadows, rain,
we jogged like dogged marathoners 'gainst our fears
though road was turned to mud and mire
our feet we pounded, raised again against the year

Though murk and gloom around have lain
it has not conquered you (nor us) nor overcome
and mighty though its bluster be
this sorrow is but fog, by daylight soon undone

Through canyons, valleys, broken plains,
we hiked like mountaineers against the rocks and shame
though path was crumbling dust and shale
we unimpressed pressed on, though wearied, wounded, lamed

22

Another year awaits your tired, lovely soul,
I swear again you will not walk these months alone

My hand in yours, your beauty still my sword against the night
until we two shall set the world alight, aright, aflight