Red along the pond’s edge path,
reflections stolen, frozen fast
in glass, in trance against this sky –
Contrast white on blue –
Polished chrome, no stone
disturbs the water –
Heart’s blood leaves
in quaking, heave
a whispered drift to set a subtle wrinkle,
throws the blue on white to stand,
calls me, takes my hand
as golden drops in feathered flight
alight.
All sight is here and for, around me.
Echo still the silent rill
by will of hills
so scaped to cut the knee high grass –
tumble silent to pond below
slow, and show the truth of what I know.
This moment’s gate surrounds me.
I unleashed in metaphor
imbibe in tide of temporal flux,
the crux of just what is,
or gone.
Alone or one, unknown.
Yet summed in seconds dreamed,
redeemed in holy solitude.
The sky, the wood,
where heart’s leaves stood
to dance and so entrance me.
Dream be mine, of life or death,
and yet I can’t recall
how tall I stand or stall
on feet to greet unworldly wonder –
Soft thunder welcomes aging ties,
belies the moments temporal –
leaves a hold,
draws warmth from cold.
Heart and blood so vernal,
autumnal, eternal –
In quiet grace, I face this whole,
my soul embraced, my heart’s blood full.
Herein peace be mine –
of what I am,
what I’ve been through,
eternal blocks of time –
all of me, this rhyme.
jaybluepoems 