Of Summers Passed

Ah, I see. You must leave again, my love

to pave the way for your older sister,

the one who colors before the whitening kill.

I shall miss you.

Will you miss me?

We dance this dance

year by year,

and the music,

while ever as sweet,

slows down to the rhythm

of our ending.

I do love the touch of

your sun

upon my skin,

and the way your breath of song

makes the branches dance.

The brightness of your eyes

makes me don that which

tames their radiance,

and the weight of your stare

warms me.

The touch of your hot kiss

on my face

makes me close my eyes

and offer up my cheeks.

My heart takes sanctuary

in your

ethereal greenery,

as even now

you start to fade.

Summer,

I will miss you,

resting in the surety

of your

perennial return.

Sleep well, my love,

and know

my heart

is ever

yours.

Let These Words be True

So when all is said and done,

and I’ve seen my final sun,

and the final tale is spun,

who will say what I have won?

 

Have I touched a human life?

Relieved someone else’s strife?

Offered comfort, peace, and love

to someone I’d rather shove?

 

Have I made a small child smile?

Did I walk the extra mile?

Did I listen for awhile?

Aided someone through a trial?

 

Did my giving of a gift

give a trodden spirit lift?

Did my words that gave approval

lead to heavy load’s removal?

 

Did the music that I play

brighten someone else’s day?

Did the lessons that I taught

make the out-of-reach get caught?

 

Perhaps I will never know,

for I do it as I go.

From the surgeon to the skater,

plant a seed that may grow later.

 

May these words I write be true.

May they be true of you, too.

The Infinite Aftermath

Standing here with you

we watch the past fade

like the ocean

on the stern of a ship.

The ripples we created

long smoothed over

to glassy stillness,

and whether blood.

sweat, or tears bob

in its wake,

they have all been sipped

or burned away.

 

What carrion of enmity

remains

has long been picked clean.

What remains of affection

sways in the darkness

in the cold current.

And together

we slip apart

into the

infinite aftermath

of

used to be,

and

might have been.

Bye Morning.

A day full of clutter

and clamor and rush.

Alarms and commuting,

Face wash and toothbrush.

 

There’s no time to waste,

And my head’s full of worry.

Can’t find anything! Running late!

Gotta scurry!

 

But how did that happen?

I set the alarm.

Gonna quit and cash out.

Go away. Buy a farm.

 

And now on the road,

all these jerks in my way…

It’s a horrible start

to a terrible day!

 

Slow down, says a voice

somewhere deep in my head,

for one day, it’s ‘Bye, morning.’

It’s over. You’re dead.

 

Take time, watch the sunrise

in fiery gold hue,

with a cadre of clouds

in a sky bright and blue.

 

And quiet your heart and your mind

for the day,

A peaceful, ‘Bye, morning.’

is what you should say.

 

And though there are some days

I still wake up mad,

I still say, ‘Bye, morning.’

And it’s not so bad.

In Word and Deed

In word and deed

I swore my fealty,

took the knee

and wore the ring.

And yet it

stopped not

your cruelty

to me

and everything

I held to be true

of love and loyalty,

valor and fidelity.

And so I withdrew

when love’s pale pallor

found no reciprocity.

I went inward indeed,

and have emerged as

something more,

just less

the burden of you.

No need

to carry on

the carrion

of love.

 

I will.

I will survive no longer

I will live

I will surrender no longer

I will fight

I will suffer no longer

I will be content

I will stand still no longer

I will flow

I will hold on no longer

I will release

I will cry no longer

I will smile

I will hate no longer

I will love

I will be confined no longer

I will wander

For in the end,

if you can understand,

I will.

Kairi’s Serenade

Kairi comes down

by the

moonlit water

to play for

me

on random  summer evenings

 

Not of this world any longer,

I cannot hear her,

but I can see.

 

Ah, there she is.

Fair and dark are her features,

Dark and fair is her song.

 

Spinning, playing a bright flourish,

she smiles at a memory,

and I feel the press of its

warmth against my molding bones

as if she hugged my spirit.

 

I wonder if she feels

my presence?

 

At times, when she plays,

there are tears.

 

I long to take them away, to

wipe them tenderly

and tell her all is well,

before we kiss,

before we part.

 

I hold onto that moment

that never was,

never will be,

and it will ever have to be

enough.

 

As Kairi turns to go,

the melody is severed,

and the notes are interwoven

with the stars.

I feel what I can only call

a smile pervade my being.

No, there will be no tears tonight,

just the song, dark and fair, it’s plaintive echo

traveling through the lichen covered

headstones of the forgotten, as Kairi, fair and dark,

vanishes into the mist, and over the hill.