Ripples [formatted]

And don’t you worry, dear;
it’s all part of how we see the world, perceive its tides, the rippling of the horizon in the morning asking a million new questions right at dawn, those silver birds chirping riddles into your ear

clear as bells and strange as space, the deepest sea,
no vessel to explore them
but the chalice of our hands

catching what glimpses we can of iridescent fish, tiny and oil-slick, holding on to their fleeting existence in our own time, watching their escape slipping back into clouds of sea foam, glowing at night and stale by morning,

and with the fugive memory of shimmering fish and cold salt still on dry lips we go on to drink what armour we can, stolen from tomorrow as we well know

but there’s no way around and we walk into the day as weary sea-folk walk into battle, reluctant yet used to the motions,

and oh we are good at this after years and years of casting our nets of words and examining what we pull in, what slipped away

a departing fin at the horizon, disappearing into the ripples of reality closing down at night.

Ripples

And don’t you worry, dear; it’s all part of how we see the world, perceive its tides, the rippling of the horizon in the morning asking a million new questions right at dawn, those silver birds chirping riddles into your ear, clear as bells and strange as space, the deepest sea, no vessel to explore them but the chalice of our hands, catching what glimpses we can of iridiscent fish, tiny and oil-slick, holding on to their fleeting existence in our own time, watching their escape slipping back into clouds of sea foam, glowing at night and stale by morning, and with the fugive memory of shimmering fish and cold salt still on dry lips we go on to drink what armour we can, stolen from tomorrow as we well know, but there’s no way around and we walk into the day as weary sea-folk walk into battle, reluctant yet used to the motions, and oh we are good at this after years and years of casting our nets of words and examining what we pull in, what slipped away, a disappearing fin at the horizon, disappearing into the ripples of reality closing down at night.

Alien Connection

Neurons reaching across the void
craving connection
hands reaching out in the darkness
searching for alien sparks
touching strangeness, searching
understanding

Harper Blue

One day again, I will meet you
dressed in Harper blue
when I’ve walked the tables, the land
knot on my shoulder, lute in my hand
on the steps to the hall
we’ll sit, singing it all
tales of the morning
of the evening fall
one day again, I will meet you
when all the ballads come true

You Are Night

Take night by the hand
and drag it into the corners
of your being:
you are darkness now
and you are the stars
leaving a shimmering trail
as you traverse the sky

The Grey Between

I inhabit the grey areas
the solitude of evening hours
grey as the geese by the lake:
no star yet, no more sun
the moon forgotten
the lanterns still unlit
under the sky of steel
and I half miss the day, miss the night
miss company and quietude
miss other grey souls
walking in our grey areas
half stranger, half friend

May Green

May is a heavy blanket
of vivid green draped across
the skeletons of trees, the dusty roads
encouraging to slowly, deeply inhale

May is a light veil
of a million white blossoms
scenting the stale air
fluttering in the breeze

May is a cushion of moss
and the unfurling of coiled fern
asking you to sit and breathe
the heaviness and lightness of it all

Night-Birds

Night-birds settling
on a sleeper’s chest
drifting away on
the rolling waves
of breath rising, falling

Escaped [Fragment]

Words
escaped
to go live with the snails

thoughts
ran off
to hide in tall grass

Rock Words

Crow clouds stole words
out of my closed mouth
and replaced them with rocks

mostly dark and edged
stumbling against lips and tongue
a nuisance, falling loudly

not telling the story I had planned
and I’m saving the few smooth pebbles
for spelling out secret messages, later