In the darkened forest of
Those below and those above,
Followed I am through the dead and rustling leaves.
Summer sun or autumn light?
All but forgotten where I might
Have awoken in the midst of those lost trees.
My only clue is the warm
Of the breeze that around me swarms.
Here something whispers: “Winter is not far.”.
There’s a break in the canopy
That offers no new sight to see,
Only the grey that stretches on and on and on.
My steps carry me no farther
The wind carries words from afar, her
Messages are seldom those of comfort, much less of wisdom.
Raindrops and a cold now herald
The days end; my easy path turned feral.
Just how cold and wet remains for me to be seen.
No shelter, no end, no rest,
I wander on, and do my best,
To stay on a straight path, and not become more lost.
With daylight now expired
I sit, my eyes so tired,
And hope when I awaken that the world will be a different place.
I awake without opening my eyes
I’ll not do so voluntarily, something else must pry,
For the rustling of leaves tells me something I ought not to hear.
Standing up and pushing on,
I tread paths where nothing belongs,
And an echo of a whisper repeats: “Winter is not far.”
Posted in From the shadows
Tagged awake, dark, echo, eye, forest, leaf, leaves, path, poem, poetry, rest, tree, whisper, winter
I am the only one here
It is obvious others have gone on before me,
I’m sure more will follow.
I am alone.
However a lonely lie I do repeat
You cannot convince me otherwise.
And upon climbing back up from the valley
The echo of a lonely lie calls back from afar.
The path is barren.
I descend into fog for fear of reaching the summit.
Posted in Personal
Tagged alone, barren, call, echo, Fall, lie, lonely, path, poem, poetry, summit, valley
Shall he remain fallen cold, buried here?
The various pains of living follow him.
And waking up to a grey sky so clear,
A midday light beyond the moon grows dim.
They were followed here, this is nothing new.
They know better than this untrodden path.
Before them, those that followed, they were few,
Fewer still who returned. Dim: this light past.
After they will break as water on rock,
They will scatter as shadows in the light.
Here the new headstones do nothing to block.
Various pains drive residents to flight.
I’ll dream of things unspoken, rest undone,
In my shallow sleep gift under the sun.
Posted in Sonnets
Tagged buried, dim, fallen, follow, grey, Moon, pain, path, poem, poetry, rest, shadow, sky, sleep, sun
I walk away from
The beaten path. Only to
Find my tomorrow
What paths illuminated by the small stars in the dark
Are to be tread when the deep hours of the night depart?
One may wander and stumble to and fro,
In doing so they squander what time they have to find home.
Given time one may learn what dim path to take
As long as the lesson they do not abbreviate.
Even the wisest are not certain of which dark star to follow,
But their minds are open to learn which ends are hollow.
We all choose a path and further down may choose another,
we cannot always tread the same way as our sisters and brothers.
Posted in Musing
Tagged brother, choose, dark, home, lesson, path, poetry, sister, star, wander, way
This is the day that light dies alone.
So far away, yet close to home.
For home in nothing resides a shadow,
Of the path that leads to it. What can I do?
In wonder I gaze at stars above.
In wonder I look around.
The sun with dead light beats down.
A day of dead light is hardly day at all but time.
In times passing behind nothing, before it, void.
Light dies alone in past tense, and in its future bed.
It’s only alive in this moment, hope with it in our head.
I will not gaze behind me to find it true: all what I’ve said.
Daylight dies alone and I, now can finally see,
That I am not the one that light calls company.
Posted in Time
Tagged alone, day, dead, dies, hope, light, nothing, path, poetry, sun, time, void, wander
A call from wind and windings within
And tangled bellows show,
What was prized above all else
The mirrored echos towed.
All through the mire of the night
And dawn awaiting there,
No stops for me, my love, mustn’t tarry
Beside the roses in still cold air.
The morning sun may catch my back and bathe me in its light,
My face on and forward, forgetting previous nights.
Several days have found me searching,
Wandering through the fog and waters.
Every path is just: ‘one more turn’
Every turn, a dead end I’ve followed.
Until the morning I awake to the bitter taste of real.
And the ocean of oblivion I long to pull you from,
In vain to bargain with echos your memory fading becomes.
I will wake one day no longer, and before that day comes,
It will be as I remember.
Beside the roses in the sun.
Posted in Love
Tagged bellow, echo, fog, found, love, morning, night, oblivion, ocean, path, poetry, roses, search, sun, tangled, tarry, wander, water, wind