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.
Eternity’s furtive glances can be seen,
glimpses through the green haze,
shaped by bitter delusions,
while silent colloquies emerge,
telling stories of intent,
yearning lost this four score,
enfolded in this place,
redeemed from madness,
by this earth we forswear.
There is no covenant with the present,
I cannot return,
the unused portions of my soul,
the damaged places in my heart,
undone emotions leading nowhere,
or the cracked hue of darkened eyes,
in the dead wake of ebbing tides,
sunset beckons night.