The Silent Quiet of Age

Still the silent quiet of age steeps rich this moment, reflecting,
echoes just what hopes deny in truth’s cold introspecting.
No fear, here, within the pause caught and loosely locked.
Just awe respecting shadow’s keep amongst the greying, flocked.

Peace gathers warm in knowing,
treasured paths and journeys made,
rest in sweetened summer fields beside the rill and glade.

Ripened in the setting sun,
kisses’ pure, seduction brings
the whispered scent of lilac twixt my golden locks, in rings.

Oh! my heart weeps openly,
for home and love’s sweet hand,
yet aging now, my courting call,
returns my lust to dust and sand.

Shed not a tear for me, for I am ne’er gone away.
But find me in this whispered breeze upon a low and setting ray,
for I’ll see you there.
I’ll touch your young and flowing hair.
I’ll dance about you in delight!
I’ll raise the thrush to song and flight,
that you may sense me here…
my pipe and whiskers smiling, dear.

4 Comments

Filed under Dreams, Memory, Nature, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

4 responses to “The Silent Quiet of Age

  1. so beautiful and so touching! congrats!

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