Softened through the echoed streams
of dream I so redeem
the instance of my calling,
and there within I scream
a silent howl ne’er set from lips,
stolen midst the ether there
in grunts and anxious sips
of what I dare to shout about,
of what I dare to stop,
then through the veil of stardust lacquer,
and back on top.
Darkened room, shadows lost
to hollow corner’s keeping,
drenched in midnight’s sweat of terror
and sandman’s wicked steeping.
of the haunt that cast me out,
quickly fading from my mind,
forgotten pricking to the shout
that seemed so dull and death like,
that crept from deep within
to hold my helpless hapless soul
enraptured, left to not defend
the missing piece of what it was,
what was it?
Don’t know, just empty dreaming now
through sleep bound eyes and yawning.
Safe within reality, yet
just enough to run from dawning’s
day ahead of midnight’s keep,
again I sleep.
What do I see behind these eyes,
enrapt in living’s echoed timber?
What source in strength of spirit, I,
that burns the questions from mere ember?
What of these eyes that come to me,
in passing daily actions bent
to find their own known mal-affection
that from their living purpose rent?
See do they? See do I?
or do we think we see?
When yet our soul’s sweet purpose rings
Unknown to me each presence.
Unknown, the purpose each heart seeks.
Unknown, each soul’s sweet resilience.
Unknown, each journey’s triumphed peaks.
Yet to their eyes I look each day
and try to bring approval,
or maybe just a passing smile
for souls behind each pair’s perusal.
I feel the great connection,
the fabric spun from God in life,
in which we bend reflections to
the solving of each other’s strife.
I know sincere inflections stand
in spirit, soul, and human hand.
I know we blend to form the truth
of what is truth, of what we can.
Here now my day light passes,
that from my walking presence lay
a spirit down to sleep in me,
and through my lips in conscious pray,
“Blessed I am through kindness given
and that which I return.
Thankful, as I am in living
for what’s been granted, and what’s been learned.”
I write between the fleeting moments
where time subsides in crescent waves,
lends me just my shadows earned,
collects my penance paid.
Here amidst the scattered moments
thoughts of day joust through my mind,
tarry contest for the bidding
of what attention I’ll give in kind.
But alas –
Denounced, these wayward fleeting thoughts
fall away in disrepair,
die among the gladiolas
rooted ‘long this road’s despair.
And to my heart and settled mind
I lend this ebbing patient song,
to find the words to catch me,
to seek some peace and hold it long.
Quiet does this moment lie
when dusk surrenders to the night.
Soft the shadows gather ‘round
to blur the focused edge of light.
Subtle does the scent arise
from blossomed spring in calling.
Slow the breath of life unwinds
into this moment’s pleasure, falling.
Here the day’s repaired,
the tasking rendered ghost.
Here the soul drifts free from care,
granting what is needed most…
Cello… piano… wine… cigar…
silent in release… reflecting…
moonlit clouds… revealing star…
free to dream, heart selecting
memories of love and youth,
rolling through suspended truth…
…until the music fades…
with only blood dripped stains of wine
to count the scattered ashes,
to count the precious moments played,
mixed throughout the ink’s dark splashes
in what this heart has spilled
upon this page in poetry filled.
What distance does the meadow grant when o’er its lay the anvil sounds in single hammered pings?
What journey does this plea incant as from this village home and ground the smithy’s hammer sings?
Such bliss is this sweet pealing kiss of home and all I love.
Yea! My heart, in longing start, carries on the wind as dove.
For there my sweet, in song’s repeat, sings to my soul and to my mind,
that I may soon return to her and in our cottage garden find
her blushing in her quiet song,
singing soft and singing long.
Rapture! Cross this meadow long that carries length upon my stride,
as coursers swift in covenant, will bound me home unto my bride.
Till there upon the garden gate, my longing will no longer wait!
Unto my arms, in blushing charms, our hearts and souls in bliss,
witnessed by the meadow’s cheer, held in love’s eternal kiss!
… beyond it all, a simple call is carried on the wings
of anvil sounds cross meadow’s grounds, whereon the smithy’s hammer sings.
Stalled in waves of motion,
seduced in grace of ebb and flow,
called to shore’s sweet passion
while caressed in wanton’s undertow,
stacked in silver lines of strand
held free in jealous prison’s hand,
marked by courage fear had won
recalling futures yet to run…
Sordid space between these poles
where earth and time dismiss
the temporal call of love’s red blood
to grant this weightless moment’s bliss
that draws the arc from then and there,
suspends the dream in thoughtless care,
entreats the mortal soul with peace
exposing heart in sweet release…
Bound in breakers, pain of life
demands our courage take us there,
to trust that hopes defined in strife
remain as faith in tatter’s tear,
that we may yield to freedom’s tide,
harbored in the ebbing wide,
beyond the rocks at danger’s peak,
to find the love and truth we seek…