Category Archives: Perspective

Change

Eternal spiral feeding,
soul and life returned,
drifting through the ashes,
another year so aptly burned.

Changing only morsels,
mixed amongst the grandest sweeps
of what it was, how it was,
and where it haunts the things it keeps.

Change, renounced reflection,
pronounced in halls of history’s fade,
twisted through accepting winds,
echoed life in all that’s made.

Subtle twists of fabric,
deep and rich in all that’s turned,
drifting whispered ashes
upon the hint of what was learned.

Eternal spiral lift me,
friend, as such, through aging’s hold,
coil my spirit around me,
drift with me as days grow old.

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Filed under Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Galaxy

Artist's concept of exoplanet orbiting Fomalhaut
Credit: ESA, NASA and L. Calçada (ESO); ESA/Hubble (http://spacetelescope.org/images/)

Poem for dVerse ~ Poet’s Pub : Prompt “Lookin’ Up
https://dversepoets.com

Lillian was our host tonight and provided a very interesting prompt to consider. That of space, and more specifically, the imagination that might be stirred through the eyes and images of NASA’s Hubble telescope.

My crazy imagination led me through a galaxy of light and remarkable beauty, yet actually contained within the hearts of two in love. Enjoy!

 

GALAXY

Be still sweet love, my heart be thine,
yet in this breaking moment trips,
for here suspended ‘midst the stars
are hidden dreams in furrowed rifts.

With deeper reach than echoes ring
from angel’s tenor’d voices,
does span the depth of life unknown,
filled rich, imagination’s choices.

O dream, I drift immortal space
without the truth of reason,
stir deep within each molecule,
hanging science, caught for treason.

‘Til silence, dear, poised to hark
no ear beyond this beating heart,
cast drifting in the whispered waves
of dust in us, in every part.

Exalted swords of light be thine,
my love be drawn in fevered chase,
transcending past love’s sparkled sun,
left golden on her face.

And as the moment’s ether lags
to bend one second back to home,
our temporal kisses, softly hushed,
leave hints to where our hearts may roam.

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Filed under Dreams, Nature, Perspective, Poetry, True Love, Universal Soul

October Lea

Strewn across the empty lea,
in ribbon frayed and broken,
a tiny path runs from the woods,
in steps of time, in whispers spoken.

The summer grass recedes in bows,
homage to the years gone by,
demarking every thought there,
every mark a cobbled sigh.

My eyes peer from October woods,
my heart in longing feels the tone,
ochre, amber, velvet brown,
the season’s scent, the ancient loan
that burns the colors through the dale,
retreats in aging silver grey,
steely eyed and captured cold,
stark against the rill in play.

I find my melancholy heart,
aching, longing setting in,
as crisp the autumn winds reveal
the sweetest scent, the saddest sin.

For as this aging lingers,
as quickly as it stops me cold,
this lea is all that matters,
this path and all its stories told…

In summer’s fold they tarried,
in waist high grass they danced and sang,
laughing, loving, holding hands,
silent woods in echo rang.
Here upon the forest floor,
they fell together leaving all,
igniting life’s elixir sweet,
heeding love as lover’s call.
Yet prattling winds betray their time,
suspended in October’s hush,
returns a shy and sacred kiss
upon a hue of lover’s blush.

The sun denied to shine,
yet balanced grey across the scene,
in hint of coming winter snow,
a lonesome breeze rolls through, serene.

The shadowed woods deny my stead,
a sheltered voice stems high,
leaves and rustling brush rejoice,
as with his mare, a boy strides by.
A ghostly apparition,
opaque and fine as cobweb’s spin,
his words unto the aging nag
are soft and kind, sweetly thin.
Upon the rugged path they step,
into the lea, into the stream,
as errant rays of sunbeam fall,
releasing sparks of silver dreams.

Across the drying autumn grass,
a scent of barn, of oats and hay,
wafts my tensile senses through,
begging me to stay.

Alas, my moments falter,
my stage as witness through this time,
measured in the living,
counted meters of this rhyme.
This life reflects in pausing,
where truths run thick in histories’ hold,
begging none go quietly,
urging strength in growing old.

And so it is I tarry,
softly strolling o’er the lea,
whispering quiet simple truths
here in the heart of me.

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Filed under Autumn, Nature, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

The Elm, the Dusk, and the Nightingale

Day recoils in silence. Autumn’s warmth gives way to dusk.
Beneath this meadow’s elm I pause, released in freedom from the husk of what this life’s become.
Summer wanes in crescent waves shaped to crash on winter’s shore,
haunting sweeter memories, from here within my open door as soul reflects the sum.

Golden sparks of eyelash glint through whispers of their closing,
that as the long rays reach for me, this tired mind retreats in dozing, beneath an ochre sky.
Subtle breezes, hushed and curved, kiss wisps of hair in amber glint,
draws an easy charcoaled line around this space where pausing’s spent, shyly asking “why?”

This gift for quiet passing, this time where I belong,
is all my heart is asking, heaving sighs in weary song, as praying just to stay.
Suspended weightless, bathed in dusk, the nightingale decries her mate,
comes to me on rush of wings to ease my passing state, till echoed light drifts grey.

Till darkness does enfold me, till crickets warn the length of night,
I wake to find my lonely peace draped o’er my arms in sparkled light retrieved from evening’s dawn.
Now calmly through the lea I stroll, pausing, counting, dew’s sweet scent,
toward home and bed my steps oblige, emptied in the moment’s spent and carried on her song.

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

The Marker

Marker

How did the stain of past life find its place upon this silent grave?
What aged the emerald crescent’s arc, kindly blotched the written stave?

What of its words and heartfelt kiss
that left a summer’s rain amiss?

What countenance divine embraced
this site befitting, this resting place?

Through what redacted soulful truths
did heaven ride to seal the proofs?

Who stood upon this sullen ground
in saddened prayer, in whispered sound?

What happened here? Who knew the scene?
What time sustained and held between
the moments of the resting?
What moments from the fight?
Who stoops above this sacred stone,
in haunt and love each night…?

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Filed under Angels, Family, Memory, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Where Once I Died

Thereupon the bridge stood I,
above the crowd’s tumultuous storm,
in offering, what hope had I
against their hapless raging form
that crashed in waves upon the piers
once placed by honest men,
now torn from ragged indolence
of hatred’s depth again.
In lacking faith and understanding,
lost from knowledge kept,
they clamored high in selfishness
not owning all the tears we wept.

So to hope and value pressed,
my hands across their sky,
I tried imparting all my strength
in knowledge, that they too might try
to come to understand the pain
and sacrifice of the few
that stacked, for them, their soapbox pulpits
high to get a better view,
born on shoulders of the past
and those who gave it all
in hope to birth this great tomorrow,
where none would here the tyrant’s call.

But hope misplaced to ignorance
distorts across the sands of time,
degrades to soulless decadence
when all they know is “mine”.

Standing high above the mass,
arms spread wide with calming tone,
plead did I of petulance
to find compassion, here alone.
As the roaring din grew faint
to hear my crying plead,
I saw the flash, heard the crack
from which all hope did fast recede.
Mid-breath in phrase “this hope is mine”,
the thud collapsed my chest,
exploding truth without a breath,
the bullet never came to rest
but caught my soul, eternal,
and cast me heaven-high,
as upon my fallen body gazed,
I watched my mortal image die.

I stood upon that bridge in hope.
I laid my soul to bear.
I gave my heart to save them,
receiving just their leaden stare.
No matter recollection,
their numbers grow the great divide
that separates few honest men
upon the bridge where once I died.

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Filed under Perspective, Poetry

Summer Shade

Waste not this rapturous seed content to revel in the summer sun,
but to the cooling grass beneath, beside cool water’s run.
Embrace in arms’ lock, tangled hair, breathe a kiss of sweet love made,
enrapt in velvet green beneath strong arms of kind elm’s shade.

Stem this furrowed brow between the lapping waves upon the rill.
Soothe this anxious heat content, in summer’s dewy shadow fill.
Dress this long enamored heart a moment’s rest in whispered rift
that ebbs between our dreaming eyes, content in love’s sweet gift.

Hold this longing’s cover high, revealing only summer’s musk,
that by this cooling season’s shade we’ll linger long till dusk.

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Filed under Dreams, Nature, Perspective, True Love