Month: June 2019

When I am dead
my treasures,
my books and cards
and photographs,
icons of my place upon this earth,
will no doubt find their way
unceremoniously
to the trash.

In the moment comes the whisper
to forge the road, to turn the page,
to write upon the breaking dawn
all the moments that have
yet to stand with her
beside the full tide.

As the sun filters through the grey cloud,
and sweeps clear the wide blue sky, she holds
to the moment knowing that it will never pass
save into the the next and the next and the next.

She holds no expectation here, joy only
that she was granted this moment, the light,
the dark, the tears and the laughter that
shaped the coming and going of the tide.

She is here now, alongside the full tide,
the silent sea, the low sky, the quiet day
that guards her and keeps the moment dancing
long after the band has gone home.

Take hold of the green hills,
take the lattice rain
and sing home the weariness
and the longing;
anchor yourself just out from the shore,
anchor yourself in that other heart.

Kiss the lips of kindness
and wrap yourself in the golden thread
of the full moon,
wrap yourself in the enfolding embrace
of those open arms.

Come, pitch your tent with miners and poets
on the edge of the ocean
that surrounds us all
and makes of us an island
save for that sweet caress, that tender kiss.

She looks at him, not distantly,
and holds his eye as the diamond uncut;
and he breathes in wonder, watching
the truth of her move among the stars.

Oh gentle heart, if I don’t have you
I am clutching but an echo that
rattles the deep void and fills
the hollow places of the haunted.