Category Archives: 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

To Life!

Spill me o’er the crystal falls where eons stretch to hold!
Kindly beckon courage from the iron will in stories told!

Grant me one last flight on wings above the alpine valleys low!
Spill my heart between the seams where mountain shadowed waters flow!

Dance my spirit o’er stormy tops in fields of azure skies!
Dash the color from the wounds there left beneath these fading eyes!

For all that I experience,
I am the subtle cause!
For all that I endure through life,
still grows a purpose from the loss!

Oh! Bathe me white in frozen streams!
Echo hearts’ resplendent joys!
Although I’ll leave as silvered man,
I lived here as a boy!

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Filed under Nature, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Garden Bench

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Golden ochre steeped in time,
aged by every season’s crime,
twined through burnished lacquer’s rust,
recalling each last sunray’s lust,
and every blue jay’s call…

Here it sits in still refrain
beneath the willow’s sweeping mane,
here imbibes in summer’s wine,
cast between these reaching vines,
that too, each year recall…

Among this life in moments stalled,
drifting cries of summer fall,
merge the glad of waiting dusk
with laughter from the day’s sweet musk,
and so record it all…

In grains of oak now tarnished brown,
in rusted bolts and furled crown,
in baked on mud upon its feet,
together aging perfumes sweet,
so sits here proudly small…
in whispers, beckons all…

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Filed under Nature, Perspective, Photography, Poetry, Universal Soul, Willow Tree

Visible

Silent now, this moment’s pause, bathed in ochre’s tinge of red,
revealing histories’ flaxen stitch, stretched through pin pricks long since bled.
Day lies still around me, ‘cross rustic echoes this past enfolds,
suspends my eye along the line where every memory’s story is told.

I strain to squint the long line down, a temporal horizon revealed,
yet danced in distorted ecstatic shapes, reducing truth so sought, concealed…

Exposing the gaps of life amongst lives…
Of image, of thought, of stories told…
Sketching loose, unveiling shadows,
Stretched between these temporal poles.

The past is vaguely visible…

So turn I from the yesterdays, grasping light in shadows long,
steel my courage, step and stride, so move along the path I’m on.
Histories’ echoes flit by, sparrows on the vented dusk,
call to me on whispered wings, “tomorrow waits within your trust”.

Summer’s acrid dusty road gives rise to verdant scent of pine,
drifts upon the chirping rill, across the lea ebbed from my mind…
Graced upon a hope and faith, sustained from whence I’ve come,
the future beckon’s naught from past, but draws from me all that I sum…

In image, thought, stories dreamed,
Loosely sketched between the seams,
Of birth and death, what can be known,
Between the temporal poles here shown…

The future dream quite visible…

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Filed under Dreams, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

An Angel’s Lament

Find me, where lonesome weeping echoes drift across the battlefield.
Find me, beyond the graves of fellows, whose wounds were never healed.
Find me, when only silent hearses search the lea for those who might remain.
Find me, upon the crest of death himself, within the blood there dried and stained.

My thunder echoed loudly, when once decision’s tide was run.
My heart grew cold and cloudy, at first blow lain till last shriek done.
My soul, in fluttered reservation, drew duty from the tangled limbs.
My God, sincere, no hesitation, to drift these men on wings to Him.

Know me, where e’er tension seeks lost men, stemmed from egos large and bold.
Know me, standing frozen in the field, ten steps beyond the forest’s hold.
Know me, waiting, watching, duty bound, to catch your fall, mend your remorse.
Know me, shadowed through the killing ground, hitching hearse to death’s good horse.

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Filed under Angels, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Ink Me!

quill-and-ink

This page defies my aching pen, smears the blotted stain I rend from out its holy genie’s lamp, cold and coughing, moist and damp… yet here between each stolen pause, I dance, I sing, I gestate cause to linger long in separation, bound to morsel’s reparation caught between elixir’s truth… sipped again, glazed in proof…. Aha!

“Page me!” yet again I yell, toward this staggered nib and well, “Page me past this floundered try that calls tomorrow’s post I cry!”

Turning toward another blank white sheet of hope, in blue lined rank, I stagger from this drunken poise to still the fire, quell the noise that drifts in hints of winter’s wind around the quill and errant pen…

“Ink me, please kind muse of love! Ink my hand, my soiled dove that draws a drunken prayer poor, draws past lust and sullen whores! Ink me!!!!”

Alas the cloud of rum and lust have rendered useless this book and stuff, that tho’ I carry where e’er I’m bound, tonight just spirit can be found, and so I turn to cork and crook, stay the pen, close the book and drink until all’s taken back, the words, the rhyme, the poem in slack… drink me!

Prompt by dVerse poets pub https://dversepoets.com/.
Our host, Lillian, asked that we write a poem and “verbify”. Basically creating a verb out of a noun, or some other element of grammar. I managed to get a little carried away.
Enjoy!

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Filed under Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul