Third Day

C

do not drown your hope in the wind—
that flowers petals who touch the sky.
unearth your ground and you will be buried
in this room
while at the door your keys must stay low
a metal can lead while it’s still not gold.

in hell, the wall cracks when the fire is hot
the painting fades cause of the lack of rain.
be careful, the seas with no beds
they house ships just to capsize them
in cemeteries with cold chandeliers hold—
ing nothing but pregnant darkness.

carry your crosses by its shoulder,
collect the rain that falls from your clouds,
can gold bars hold a watery soul?
consider the cold days even when the sun is bright,
cease your words from hills that have ears.

Ruddapoet