Tales from the edge of the morning sky

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Outside

Outside, 

the storm bends 

and twists 

the hidden trees, 

beneath the racing dark 

of roaring skies, 

and here 

here I I lie, 

wrapped in quilts 

of warmth and quiet, 

beneath the blinded stare 

of window glass, 

hearing the shaking, 

the creaking eaves, 

the first of rain, 

the heavy drops 

of leaden sky, 

the calamitous clash, 

the shattering thuds 

of thunder 

rolling under 

the chasing moon

 of night, 

I pull the blankets tighter, 

hugging the familiar, 

through the blinking gasps 

of the last of day 

and light.

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She walked

She walked 

in the rain, 

the skies weeped,

silently,

slate grey 

the clouds

above, 

calling her name

For the puddles 

danced

with her reflections 

as empty people 

walked by,

oblivious, 

to her pain

they never thought,

never wondered, 

never stopped,

to ask

or even consider,

why

For as spring, 

she turned 

and lay

sleeping, 

wrapped

in last year’s 

leaves,

dreaming 

memories

of summer

in the empty park,

she silently, 

slowly,

grieves.

And upon

a  child’s roundabout 

turning, 

silently 

dreaming

of life,

she turns

her umbrella 

in the falling 

shadows,

the darkness fires

and winter

turns to ice

…and burns

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Last Havens

Across the fading lights 

of earth time, 

the rising fall 

of sunset blue, 

the stars weep 

their tears 

across the southern skies, dreaming, 

singing, 

midnight songs, 

of yearning, 

loss, 

farewells, 

and goodbyes, 

missing the days 

and hours, 

of you.

For tonight, 

your ship 

has departed, 

with sails full 

with moonlight, 

and silent,

summer winds, 

memories blown

from present, 

and future past, 

from the last harbors, 

the outward tides, 

that leaving of home, 

and westwards, 

the journeys end

will bring.

And so at last,

upon the promontory,

beyond 

the lighthouse, 

the last 

of the stepping stones,

to the dawns 

of another land, 

to waves,

and farewells, 

to a once, 

upon this time, 

the last goodbyes 

until the sea

departs,

forever from here,

in silence, 

still

I stand. 

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Snow, 

silence 

and birdsong,

skies hushed 

and still, 

dawn hidden

waiting, 

above the rooftops, 

spring sleeps

dreaming 

for returning, 

summer

she will.

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She sings

Every morning, 

shortly before a quarter to six,

she takes to the highest point,

 above the dawn, 

above the changing flush

of peach blossom skies, 

upon the highest branch

on top of her world, 

and she sings,

she sings,

as the dawn lifts the sky, 

and the trees reach, 

and stretch, 

beyond the fading shadows
 
of a passing night, 

the earth is stilled, 

hushed in a growing silence, 

to listen, 

to learn, 

and for you 

to remember. 

There’ll never be another day like this one.

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The Memory of Rain (for RDK)

Lights on the hill, 

shimmering stars,

at the end 

of a summer’s day, 

the hushed breath 

of evening, 

late whispers

upon the terrace, 

laughter,

across the dusk, 

but I’m just passing 

through this way.

For the road winds

long 

and lonely, 

across the fields 

beyond the walls, 

the hedges 

and gardens, 

following lines 

from an ancient past, 

footsteps, 

echo 

echo,

before mine, 

hidden meanings 

in the lengthening shadows, of all that is lost

and that which

has passed.

And in the afterglow 

of memories,

forgotten 

across the journey, 

the hidden path, 

I need to leave 

them, 

along the lane, 

beyond the last of the straggling houses, 

and deeper 

into the opening secrets 

of tonight, 

at last.

For behind 

the springtime, 

the blossom 

of this life,

I need to further

to go further,

into the emptiness, 

where the blind man 

can see the moon 

once again

the reflections, 

hidden in his voices 

and after sight

after life, 

in the first drops

from heavy clouds,

to feel 

and see 

once again,

through the memory 

of rain.

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He felt himself slip and fall back. His shoulder first and then his waist and legs sinking into a sucking pull of slops of heavy, viscous sand…

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Walking 

in the flower garden 

of spring, 

listening to the birds 

in the bushes that sing, 

for the sky is blue 

a promise for today, 

with April approaching, 

winter is slipping 

still further away.

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Moon and light

Moonlight silver, 

wisps of light,

hushed  

across evening skies,

a slow dance 

of hours 

until the morning’s rise

for there hidden

under the midnight earth

dawn waits

dreaming of sunlight

life, birdsong, 

love and rebirth

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Lights

Across the fading lights 

of earth time, 

the rising fall 

of sunset blue, 

the stars weep 

their tears 

across the southern skies, dreaming, 

singing, 

midnight songs, 

of yearning, 

loss, 

farewells, 

and goodbyes, 

missing the days 

and hours, 

of you.

For tonight, 

your ship 

has departed, 

with sails full 

with moonlight, 

and silent,

summer winds, 

memories blown

from present, 

and future past, 

from the last harbors, 

the outward tides, 

that leaving of home, 

and westwards 

the journeys end

will bring.

And so at last,

upon the promontory,

beyond 

the lighthouse, 

the last 

of the stepping stones,

to the dawns 

of another land, 

to waves

and farewells, 

to a once 

upon this time, 

the last goodbyes 

until the sea

departs,

forever here,

in silence, 

I stand. 

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