the cold rain taps upon my roof
with a pitter patter; dancing
among the cold, sunburnt trees
as leaves slowly file their way
down from sky to ground
in a symphony of colors
orange, yellow, red… soon branches
will sustain no more
and bare winter’s cold fingers
will grip upon the distance
with blue, white and silver…
yet, for now, listening to the
boisterous rapping of rain,
pondering change, i sit with a kitten
warming herself in the folds of
my lap and smile at the
constancy of nature’s serenade
Tag: poetry
dreaming of songbirds
songbirds cower together
huddled to avoid detection;
like a dog i pet one with my
pointer finger
under the chin and across
the wings; such soft feathers,
like baby’s down, covering…
i would protect your song with
my heart should you decide
to give voice to your sweet
solitudes-
for there’s nothing left within
this space but quiet
and your soft tunes, but tales
of long ago, bring peace to this
brooding soul
transition
a mighty wind blows
and voices of change
haunt this graveyard
of the past, like bits of
stolen memory
from long ago…
as i walk amid these
newly carved gravestones,
as the moon full of
what’s been closed lights
the change before me,
i linger between the past
and the future
breathing in what is to be…
for there’s nothing now but
holes dug into the ground
of my faulty memory…
so i linger now
beneath this moon
of change
and await the oncoming
transitions
desirous sun
the dark stretch of night
spreads upon what was once
morning
sun’s domain gives way to stronger
desires as he searches the sky
for his lost stars
allowing night to softly caress
what was once bright
as we wait for him to shine
and cease his fruitless crying
darkening days
as the days grow shorter
and darkness swallows
the warmth of summer sun
all that was flush and green
within this heart fades quietly
into a colorful oblivion
and the thoughts once pregnant
with new growth and understanding
linger now upon the precipice
of winter’s deep dive
waiting for fire’s soft flame
to give hue back to these flush
cheeks and patient soul
this body awaits the impending cold
with tolerance and mercy
a smile
silvers of hope slid into the
empty spaces so quietly
she hardly knew they were
there, yet one morning she
awoke to a different collection
of thoughts, some differing feeling
that was both uneasy and comforting
to touch…
these shards of lightness
illuminated the dusty corners of her
heart with a new kind of bright
what is this? she pondered as
her mouth curled unfamiliarly
upwards into what could only be characterized as a smile…
approaching winter
i will speak no more
of flowers and songbirds,
the youthful hue has fallen
and winter’s bane, cold to touch
metallic to taste, fills now
these thoughtful days…
scurrying squirrels know what
approaches
as this cold wind turns
and now as darkness approaches
i gird my soul for the oncoming cold
hoping this fire i’ve built will
sustain me
change
the earth is moving
and all that was, will be no
more,
and all that i am is melting
like snow upon the mountainside-
changing to be reborn this
soul
finds solace in the ever loving
divinity of peace and acceptance
as the wind rustles the leaves
and the rain cleans the summer
soaked concrete
and all that was once brown and
weathered will fall away
to be replaced by green again
eternal moments
flowing flames of burning candles
dance upon this heart,
newly awakened from dark and
fitful slumber to find songs
of love playing upon harp strings
in the distance…
And all that was once muddled within
the dusty corners of thought
shine like rainbow filled diamonds
upon the eternal moments
divined for secret quiet
book pages
book pages, old and smelling
of mildew and decay,
line this heart with
unknown conclusions…
once printed beyond the stars,
i linger now and await
what words might unfold
themselves
as the scenario of time plays-
and all that I once thought I knew
about character development
lies wasted at my feet;
i’ve lost the plot thread now
and there’s just no going back
to reread the pages
so hovering about, waiting for
the page to turn, for the plot to
reveal itself, this heart silently
stands by, with bated breath, for
the next chapter
the SIBYL'S SONG 