He must reach up to what he can’t below.
A solemn song the twilight will now sing.
Into dark depths, winding paths to follow.
What good there can the nighttime to him bring?
An age of waiting on the ocean floor,
Patience for questions that delay answers.
Inhabited by his greatest fears; more
Than a passing phobia or cancer.
One wonders if there’s breath under water,
He has been drifting down there for so long.
His arms, can he bring himself to bother?
Perhaps. He’ll soon find that his arms are strong.
In swimming towards the surface he will find,
Darkness and light, both, are repaid in kind.
Posted in Rise Above, Sonnets
Tagged arm, dark, depths, fear, find, light, phobia, poem, poetry, reach, sonnet, strong, surface, swim, swimming, twilight, water
She stares into the distance
At nothing. At something.
Expecting sight to be rewarded with newness.
Queens have risen and died, kings have fallen,
In the time she took to realize
Her place was small.
Dogs do not look upon the fallen and weep.
She stood, to eternally be.
Just that, to be.
What did she stand to do?
She reached down,
And helped her neighbor to his feet.
Posted in Musing
Tagged distance, dog, feet, help, king, neighbor, poetry, queen, reach, stare, weep
The world is dark and dim and shifting,
Beneath a quiet shell uplifting.
In the silence one was calling
She stopped to listen…
Heard leaves falling.
Almost footsteps, ones behind her.
Turned to look and heard survivors,
Still living echos of her own,
So cold and far away from home.
On her way, walking faster now.
Down a path to the edge of town,
Where the world, dark and dimming,
In its shadows with mysteries brimming.
None may see her final flight,
If safely home, or had to fight.
Those footsteps she once heard before,
Were her own, but something more.
For reaching from her twilight shadow,
Her reflection from graves shallow.
Grasping at her ankles so,
It may not have to let her go.
Then turning slowly back to see
What has gripped so desperately,
Then looking into that shadows face,
None but her own would take its place.
She is it, and it the shadow.
The day is done and she’s left hollow.
The world is dark and dim and shifting.
Beneath this shell that is uplifting,
There is one, who in silence calls,
Waiting for another, who, listening, falls.
Posted in From the shadows
Tagged dim, echo, edge, Fall, grasp, grave, poetry, quiet, reach, shadow, shallow, shell, survivor, town, world
There are those who watch our souls from beyond the shadows and behind the vacancy of night, who, wishing to become one and unbeknownst to us, plot to enter and twist the silent minds laid before them, that lay unguarded, for their foolish owners dare not believe in the thieves that threaten at every turn.
Where shadows speak the spirit longs to flee and I with them, for who knows the length of arm the ones who reach into the soul?