Night brings out the muse, usually late.
Last night I went to bed early, giving in to deep relaxed fatigue, layered weights dragging me down the more I relaxed. I awoke way too early, 4:30 AM, not happy about sleepus interruptus, while ruminating mind began planning chores. NO, not now! In a rare appearance these days, my old friend spontaneity came to the rescue. “Get up” s’he said. “Go out and listen to the dawn. Follow the Robins dream. Spiral through the shift from night to day.” So, I got up an went out back to sit on the step and feel the dawn.
Sing robins, sing-
Gossip of angels,
lone voices call
across treetops
(lofty reaches)
in jazzy, lilting riffs.
Each outdoes the other-
point, counterpoint
development, refrain, repeat.
(chorus spinning)
Each answers gurgling trills
in telephonic circulation,
answers and calls,
(leave a message)
conversations which
rise in pitch
to feverish conniptions.
Sing, robins, sing-
thrilling chorus,
bid the light appear as
still air chills and flows in whispers.
The page begins to turn
(huge and gentle)
nudging oceans of molecules to dance.
Shadows barely hint as
the garden broaches the dark pitch.
Bones of structure
rise to the surface,
pale ghost forms
of architecture,
soon to be resurrected,
as night acquiesces.
Sing, robins, sing
for me, when I am gone.
Tell me how the book began
how the story will end.
Tell me why I fear to hear
what you can only sing,
a truth I will never understand.
But tell me yet, for perhaps
I can know as you know,
know in the singing.
I hear, I hear and it’s gone.
…Bones of structure
rise to the surface,
pale ghost forms
of architecture…
LOVE these lines, and the image of summer days flopping towards us–perfect.
Went and stood in the middle of a field for some time solstice night; the Honey Moon, noctilucent fireflies, vault of black and whispering maples made a moment so essentially SUMMER SOLSTICE it was practically a cartoon–a stylized painting of summer, something whatshisname would have painted, you know, the nouveau guy…oh for heaven’s sake, total mind-blank…nevermind. Anyway, here’s to summer, and abundance.
To Summer! …*clink*… glug, glug, glug….. burp.
This is an engaging post that I relate to in spirit. I recall the times I had summer off, but it took a while for the “have to do” knots to relax from my responsiblity shoulders.
I love how your writing gently takes my virtual hand in to your thoughts and images, as if I was there. This is a gift to me, a fellow nightowl! Your prose is crafted as expertly as your poetry.
There are times I succumb to arising early, even planned several occassions to photograph the sunrise for paintings. My family flipped out when they saw me at 5 a.m. *fully clothed*, not in my pjs, from having painted or written all night. I’m quite a sight, dressed for winter chills in layers with pockets and such for the photography gear. Those times of getting up early are rare. I far prefer sunsets. 😉
LOL, at your reply above!
Jessamyn, I just realized my ‘burp’ comment sounded like an insult to you. Not the intention. Just a laid back toast to the spaciness of Summer.