Metamorphosis

Apr 19, 2016

METAMORPHOSIS

I amble through the woods
keeping, marking the rhythm of Time
on the gnarled branches, the scars left in the bare barks
of trees .
The bells toll, like some pure metal
immersed in water and ringing still.
A metamorphosis
latent, sings
in a monotone I fail to hear for a while
in the impetuous rustle of the wind.
It's happening somewhere silently.
The sound of a temple bell
how it floats
on the ripples and the wind that sweeps
over the river's thin expanse.
Metamorphosis,
not immortality
is the burden of the song that Time sings.
Leaves that fall
cover the scattered seeds
flowing down among the pensive trees

THE QUARTER MOON

A quarter moon
shedding light on
the quarter of your mind;
and the remaining half
always in the dark.
A band of stars
a wagon of lights
trailing behind,
abstruse shadows
on the rush of clouds
on the glades of forests
where you weave
and graft structures of meanings
out of a spool of thread
uncoiled from an enormous brain.

Gigantic shadows intervene.
I lose my shadow among the jostling trees.
The snare, the lure of the shadows receding
like images seen in elusive dreams.

I look desperately to hold
the magician's hand.
That was the only voice that could speak to me
with the intimacy of the water and rain,
with the intimacy of the silence under a cloud that is dripping
a language of the infinite sky
over a leafless tree.

It was all in the magic of the hour,
the tree, the shadows and the rain and the sky
and me trying to grasp them all
in the open palm
and then clench the fist
and break the spell of the mystic hour.

Image credit: +Darlene Walsh

Sharing some thoughts with the moon...

A Sea-shell

A Sea-shell

A sea-shell comes and rests on the sand
washed awhile ago
by the silent tide in a moment of an awesome uneasy calm.
Incredible are the tones that blend
and incarnate on the corny surfaces of the shell and the sand.
"Bones and blood and the tides that roam",
have inscribed the story of the sea and the sand,
ages in the history of Nature's saga
of eternal rounds of life.
And we are all of it, a part and eventually the whole of it,
"in our bones and blood and the veins of our being"

Bird of a strange paradise,
how you descend upon the shallow tide
with ruffled feathers and a quiet grace!

The dawn is the time to wake up and face
the new day with your secret strength.
Let me watch you dance with all my days.

Bird of paradise, let me match
my footsteps upon the shores
of your immaculate white sands.

Ruffled feathers and a quiet grace,
you have dropped a message in my lap.
I read your presence in  every wind upon the virgin sand.

A breeze from an unknown land, peace from a healing song,
your melody drifts on the waters here;
I listen, and drown in the scent of stillness that wraps me all around

Bird of Paradise

Bird of a strange paradise,
how you descend upon the shallow tide
with ruffled feathers and a quiet grace!

The dawn is the time to wake up and face
the new day with your secret strength.
Let me watch you dance with all my days.

Bird of paradise, let me match
my footsteps upon the shores
of your immaculate white sands.

Ruffled feathers and a quiet grace,
you have dropped a message in my lap.
I read your presence in every wind upon the virgin sand.

A breeze from an unknown land, peace from a healing song,
your melody drifts on the waters here;
I listen, and drown in the scent of stillness that wraps me all around

Reaching For The Night Sky

Apr 19, 2016

Reaching For The Night-Sky

Boatman, whence do we come,
whither do we go?
Is there a land beyond the sea,
somewhere in the sky,
somewhere beyond the reach of stars?
When the land will be out of sight,
will the sky sing a hymn?
Will the dreams be caught in a storm?
But wait; do not answer yet for I begin to hear;
my language fails, my ears don't hear;
A melody strange is streaming upon a river,
and all the questions have an answer there.

LIKE A WHISPER OF LOVE

Like a whisper of love
let the light come
and define your contours;
let me see you ripple in the dark.
Like a tree looking at its own image,
let your myriad leaves
shimmer
in the magical moment...
just for a beautiful instant
before you break into the truth
of what you are, a light, a lamp, a beacon for the lost

Image credit: Anna.  a

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