awaiting the new

 

Winter Sky

 

 

Straw sky

Westerly

Moonless, Sunless, Starless

Leaveless trees point gnarly fingers

to the heavens

deepening into darkness.

 

Frayed and tattered demons

Lucid praying

A feeling beyond touch

Beyond fear or sadness

A feeling unlike hope

Without reason

Formless

Yet delineated

Like constellations

 

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,

only now.

 

Every precious second, every interminable hour,

every slippery slovenly unrelivable day,

an unrelenting onward and inward and outward,

soulesque surrounding.

 

Where is now?

Yes, everywhere, of course, but how do we divine,

make sense,

manifest intention,

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

 

 

Stillness.

Light calmly shines

through bare-branch silhouettes.

Ice, frozen in time

sparkles, giving no reasons.

Still.  Cold.

Natural cycles.

Out on the battlefield of man,

brutal bleeding,

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,

rocky terrain,

spinning so merrily

with no idea of sadness

set into motion.

Spiraling cycles.

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

anticipating deleting

old reviews,

debts no longer due

hoping that greeting

"Happy!  Celebration"

proves true