Rhythms of the Seasons

The rhythms of the season hypnotize us
as they go ’round and ’round and ’round,
faster each year as we age,
building to some distant, palpable climax
while receding from another, ancient past.

Faster they spin, compelling us to fill fleeting days
with meaningful events.
(love may deepen,
hate grow brittle,
poetry more necessary)

To and fro, light to dark, the pendulum swings
stupendously, irrevocable across the map, throbbing
in every molecule with its unabashed preponderance.

No sooner sweet Summer arrives
in her full sensual glory
and vapid dissipation,
then be the slightest incline, the longest day tipped,
we start the slow, poignant slide
to the depths of
Winter.
Thus we arrive again at this valley
of Yin,
whose darkness and gravity turns us inward
to our sweetest, softest, most delicate
center.

As if by sheer will (and hope and need)
we nudge the gyration
back toward light,
we indulge in glitter and compassion.
We reward love needed and given
with earnest countenance.
We search our souls for cheerful ways
to decorate the days.
We celebrate the counterpoints of our lives,
barely pausing to reflect
over the abyss which lies beneath
the fragile music we make.

This was one of Barbara’s favorite of my poems.

Night Flower

Night Blooming Cirrus Flower

The pale cirrus flower glows by night
under a platinum moon. It shines
as my sleepless sighs exhale anguished air
across its feathered wings, fluttering
grief over the evaporated dream of your love.
Briefly, the ghostly bloom grows a follicle
filled with fresh pomegranate juice,
whose ripe, succulent, mouthwatering
kisses fade in dawn’s cool light.

Candle in my Lantern

Candle in a Lantern

The candle in my lantern
burns days, years and nights.
Thoughts of being lost
flickers the flame to fright.
Memories of my lover’s
pale, musky loins sways
its pointy tip to dizziness with
swoons of rapturous flights.
The idea of his demise nearly
strips the spirit off its wick.

So I soften to pictures of
pleasant, sunny trips;
lolling hammocks
between two strong trees
near a gurgling, mossy creek.
Yet the flame still falters,
feeling turmoil from some distant shoal.
Only when I cease yearning
does its white spear hold center,
filling the breath within me
with his hot, clear glow.

The Room

Moon over House

Black November air
oozes across the pine board floor,
cold molasses being poured.
Shadows of craggy oak twigs
gnaw the walls for flaws.
The moon cannot escape,
so peers helplessly
from her thin blue ark.
His cries are swallowed whole
by the feather comforter
weighted on his chest.
The room is silent.

Leaden limbs remain distant thoughts.
Slumbering whirlpools of feline
warmth, curled in his arms,
are the only reminders
of life just beyond reach.
He pines against this mime
of impenetrable pause,
dreaming of release.

At last, a pop shatters
the brittle gauze.
An acorn, nudged loose
by a lurking cartoon bandit
in the tangled trellis above,
thrums a beat to crack the shell.

He shudders, hears himself moan,
surveys the familiar room,
and, with a deep sigh of relief,
turns back to sleep.