Dart among the invisible leaves,
As the sunset races,
Tangerine skies cursed between,
The dying grasps of sapphire and wine,
We think we see,
Harbingers of night,
Beckoning the blind forerunners of dawn,
Flickering hope among rustling leaves,
Who sing simple harmonies,
Now only at first light,
We may see again,
And bid farewell,
to death’s fading cloak,
the diminishing gray of night.
Today is the day,
we remember those who died,
beyond the places only sacred stones recall,
we mourn their loss and sacrifice made,
those who passed in distant lands,
and those who bled,
on these very sands,
In Christ there is hope,
In hope we pray for tomorrow,
That the violence of yesterday,
May give way to peace today.
The solace I seek today,
is hidden along the path I walk,
silent stones of disquiet,
placed in a garden of clamor,
I am frightened by the deafening roar,
the common reserve of ancient stillness,
obscured portraits of yesterday’s wounds,
will not cease their angry accolades.
I become deaf to this moment,
will I hear tomorrow?
Irrational delusions of night,
Seized by the imposition of dawn,
The benevolent joy of my dreams,
Vanishes into sorrow as I awake,
Invading images bound time’s frontier,
Night’s unfinished work must wait.
The trees sprang from the ground,
leaves hung from the sky,
sand absolved the remaining sea,
I could not find a place to stand,
In a capsized dream,
Grasping for a sturdy rope,
Dangling on the roots of desperation,
Emerging from the darkness of the deep,
I released my hand and head,
To finally fall asleep.
The owl landed on my head,
near quarter to three,
I didn’t know Nigel was living,
on the third branch from the right,
in my live oak tree.
I looked up and he stared back,
I asked what and he said, “who me?”
Yes, you, the owl, on my head,
What’s this about?
Is it something I said?
“The place was free,”
It’s my head, I scowled,
not a perch for a silly Owl,
Go back up Owl,
Please fly back now,
while I go home and find a towel,
Nigel sighed and hooted twice,
before finding a melon,
which looked equally nice.
Love’s redolent fragrance beckons,
Shall I draw near?
Inhaling deeply while I pass,
Absolving my pensive trance,
Be not removed from my presence,
Permit me to gaze in this moment of chance,
In you I read the enchanted remains,
Of all Aphrodite so gently brings.