Bitter Wind

A barren field, which way to turn,
The paths all the same are worn,
The dusty earth, the pallid sky,
the heavy winds, a forlorn sigh.

The waters move the planet well,
Yet so very laden is the swell,
the rush, the current be so strong
Mountains are sand before too long.

What to do when all is gone,
Perhaps listen to the winds sad song,
Or the birds that carry the ages tune,
They comfort the spirits so alone.

Oh, Chagrin, the bitter cold wind,
The dust is painful in my eye,
Let the ages fall beneath me,
Let the waters run til dry.

Lost Dream

On the equinox I dreamt a dream,

I saw my love again,

He stared at me with angry eyes,

Yet took my hand in his.

‘What were the reasons?, he asked,

How could you wander so?

Where abouts and whattofor,

life is love, you know.

Our hands formed a spiral,

as the clutch was so entwined,

been a shadow in my memory,

Since our two hearts aligned,

I tried to tell him in my dream,

that is not like how it is,

the strings that pulled my limbs before,

now I have been rid.

But now there is a forward momentum,

and I’m lost to the pull,

the road of return is fogging up,

yet the promise is still full.

It may be many moons distant,

it may be many years,

I know the world is smaller yet,

when the soul overcomes the fears.

Thus I stirred in the morning light,

so glad to see him once more,

no longer will I shed a tear,

with hope behind closed door.

Yet in the window of the night,

in the light and darkness schemes,

I’ll not let the feeling fade away,

I’ll not forget the dreams.

 

 

 

 

Silent Scream

Stuck in my head,

like that concussed feeling,

a sting behind the eyes,

an inhalation of breath

in a freezing night

an orchestra symphony

of minor chord disharmony,

the gut’s turn before the snake strike,

the coldest hour before sunrise,

before the light breaks through the ice.

 

Nowhere and everywhere left to turn,

to God and to the knowledge of the world,

a circular current from spirit to mind,

distant points and so many lines,

like the light at the edge of the sky,

the divine structure in the ice

and liquid water, bringing forth life,

that ancient familiar spark in the eye,

a motivation forward, this forlorn sigh,

and fortuitous when these elements combine:

Life tends to thrive after fires of time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roses

I think of you in the dark of night,

and in the fresh light of morn,

somewhere in the mist, our souls

parted ways, and we were born.

 

Rose petals climb the trusses

a soft texture on the walls,

no free will sends those roses high,

primordial growth, from the first light of time.

 

Alas, if love is like a rose,

it surely knows which way to grow,

yet trees and clouds obscure the way,

and adjacent brambles snare and sway.

 

One a morning fair, I passed the rose

and sang a sweet old tune,

and the sun is bright and the sky as blue

than when our love was in full bloom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Flight

One thousand miles in one step,

nothing but a small turn back,

so fast there is no imprint left,

the trail fades fast in dry sands.

Take the leap and dust shall rise

So many spiral tunnels of flight

Who is to tell when the time is right?

All is to know is the open sky.

The flight, the time, the world may fall,

Love and Wisdom and Will stand tall,

and fettered, icy wings sustain,

when falling towards the world to gain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peace

Such a plane of existence,

a comfort of its own,

many a miserable and joy filled world,

and this is mine alone.

It is better than some, I’d say

this world staid and calm,

it could be constant suffering,

yet I have peace within these walls.

If I were in the midst of war,

would my mind still be at ease?

Would solace truly rise from within,

or in truth, in comforting grace?

There is a wisdom hanging over,

truth from without and within

and too much peace may stir the soul,

Good! Many battles to win.

 

Darkness

Another darkness

with the new day,

sunshine send me forth

from this hollow cave,

my mind to my heart

has become a slave,

and all I can do

is hopefully pray

and trust time will take

these troubles away.

And I will awake each new day

and remember the color in the grey

’tis a bleak tint, this shroud, which

imparts no warmth as it surrounds

the soul at peace, the mind at ease,

yet is only vapor, like a cloud.

I could wisp it away if the frequency

of my thoughts were not vigorously

reverberating the strings of my heart,

so I know not the tune of elemental harmony

that breaks these fetters and sets me free.