rush empty
now-
everyone
out
of spun web
mouth,
on fog breath
routes,
reflection’s
grey..
frostbitten
teeth
latch coward
needs
gums bled to
drought
don’t reach
for me
no matter
depth,
not of my
head-
the genie’s
out.
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hands in the garden 
yes, inspired by the quiet words falling as if from inspiration itself slowly landing on us the message of the ages to come. Thank you so much and keep creating peace in the souls as always was desired!
I appreciate this response. 🙂 I’m glad it resonated with you and thank you for sharing your thoughts! I’m not sure where the poems come from most of the time, I just try not to get in the way of them. 🙂