morning's mask rests deep

morning's mask rests deep, the light still hours away. full moon and clouds hide the stars, meteors, comets, cosmic conjunctions and alignments. mere humans walk beneath the feet and feats of the gods atop the mountain of flame. i wonder and wander in my darkened house, what coolness pervades even as the heat awaits us all. the sun, like its meteoric brethren, hides behind the earth until there is time, time for seeing what is when there is nothing but light. inside the holiness of my thoughts the religions of my mind the tranquility of no thought and the madness of imagining, where is truth for the insanity of living. helpless to resist the heart shudders in unison with all and every drop of pleasure and pain is no longer sleeping. the short hours of the darkness bring no relief anymore, the time of childlike quiet is rent with pyrotechnics and screaming of the holiest and holier everywhere i go. even as i sit they come to me in droves, leaving their bodies and their emanations of the flesh all around me. i fly under the ground, pulling the dank and warmed earth of my alien sisters over me and fright eyed and trembling, hoping the christians forget to call. i read in the moments left of the dead fathers and mothers that have followed their paths to the graves of golden light and find the streets a bloody mess. what sense of truth is there for the left and right of us that cannot be in the world like souls of dead men wandering looking for the last meal to share with the living. the feast of the few and the banquets of the poor filled with the grave and trembling knowledge and need that never ends but only fills the soul with wanting. i wont last long, the earth a hoary place and the living a dying race of idol worshipers. where i sit is under the horizon, staying low where others soar and let their light of passage be my cue to pull up the covers and hold shut these delicate orbs of seeing ,looking deeper than i can bear.