Moonless, Sunless, Starless
Leaveless trees point gnarly fingers
to the heavens
deepening into darkness.
Frayed and tattered demons
A feeling beyond touch
Beyond fear or sadness
A feeling unlike hope
I make motions with my hands,
move my skin into contact
with ineffable realms.
Move, oozing miasma.
Creating signs in faint luminescence.
Bit by bit they encompass
the night's horizon.
But there is more.
It comes to me in brief emanation.
Droning, encircling, swooping in and out.
I organize a study chamber.
Pull out maps and ruler.
Set my quill to taking notes.
Images engaged in excited conversation
pull me in to their heady company.
I can feel the sky breaking around me.
Bits of colored prisms falling.
Make a wish.
And Why Not Now?
The 4th dimension embraced to spatial 3.
Length, width, depth --
will may move within.
Yet we travel always in time,
whether we want or even know.
Ever onward through duration;
moment to moment
encompassing all of our lives.
And yet they say there is no time,
Every precious second, every interminable hour,
every slippery slovenly unrelivable day,
an unrelenting onward and inward and outward,
Where is now?
Yes, everywhere, of course, but how do we divine,
measure meaning to instant that
expands into infinite unknown?
How do we comprehend what extends true and real,
stands the test of time,
that continuous emergence, strands
playing in the breeze entangling and evolving?
How do we tame Now
and make a dance of time, swinging and swaying,
executing formal twirls of shadow
and light to uplifted applause?
How do we account for time,
yet spend it like raindrops,
yet savor forever awakening?
If it must be done, it must be done now!
There is no waiting room in eternity.
Yet there is no being done.
There is only doing, and being,
and bravely swimming uncharted seas.
Not with a Bang
Light calmly shines
through bare-branch silhouettes.
Ice, frozen in time
sparkles, giving no reasons.
Out on the battlefield of man,
shattering of bones and dreams
too loud and crazed
to be heard
reverberating in shattered brains.
Once a molten planet
shot out of star stuff
creating plains and seas,
spinning so merrily
with no idea of sadness
set into motion.
In crystal stillness
frozen tears break and fall
slowly, silently, into time,
knowing not what we have wrought.
ago and away
Long ago and far away
In the inner plains of time
A fair voice was heard to say
We will meet to love someday.
Through centuries of waking dream
Varied tongues have shared the rhyme
Each meeting, new though it may seem,
Another pattern in the scheme.
Running now through you and me
A thread, a wisp of fleeting song --
An ever-mending tapestry --
This treasured bit of life we see.
awaiting the new
debts no longer due
hoping that greeting