The Grey Country – Mitchell David Ring

Weeping skies over the gray country

Mourn all promises the dead cannot keep

And wash away ink from the pages of a recycled soul

Ready again for the printing press

Follow the type from death to birth

Through dawns unrisen and days undone

A borrowed life singing songs of ritual not written

With a voice that once belonged to the wind

And eyes lost in first visions of color

Pouring out of a new-opened sky

Out in the gray country with arms outstretched

It stands, skin bare, feeling raindrops for the first time

Coming up on the Winter Solstice in a couple of days. What are your thoughts on certain days of the year having some sort of meaning/power that others don’t? I’m not a fan of astrology, but I know many people are!

Photo by Dương Nhân from Pexels

for more from Mitchell David Ring at “A Light is On”, click here:

Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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