Fragile flight
If only the sun
would infuse me
with some of itself
so I could see
the pace of time
the stretch of light
its soul of dark
our fragile flight
If only the sun
would infuse me
with some of itself
so I could see
the pace of time
the stretch of light
its soul of dark
our fragile flight
This, time
how it rips through our lives
how the past is wrenched away
how the future teases
and how,
now is but a blink
a moment to forget
When there is love in your heart
there is also strength
where there is a strength
there is also weakness
where there is a weakness
there is also time
for love
I hear planes in the sky
bees nearby
I sit and wonder why.
The rise of Earth’s scent
brings memories
ancient as I inhale
Bees nearby
feasting, dancing
to ancient rules
Planes in the sky
laden, travelling
over ancient lines
Me, eyes closed
listening, inhaling
relishing the sunrise
I sit and wander
over bees nearby
over planes in the sky
and up, and around
I wander till found
the answer as to why
ancient bones die.
I sit and wonder
of the age of ghosts
of Earth’s ancient hosts
and of time’s thunder
where ancient bones sigh.
A rich cup of tea
sits beside me
the teabag turning the water red
almost as if it can feel the pain in my arm
where the vampyre puntcured me like an old tyre
spawned bruises
memories
history
time
honey makes a difference
it sweetens the ache
allows me to dream
of continuance
of course there is always time
always time to breathe
even if that breathing is tight
tingly and cold
and that’s when it hits me
I’m watching the rain
listening to the patterings
seeing the grey morning clouds stir
hearing the moans of a thousand souls in the wind
feeling the silence of her tears
of her tears
longing to evaporate into joy
but on this cold cold day
she can do nothing but cry
and I can do nothing
but think of continuance
and climbing that hill
hoping I can still breathe when I reach the top
of course there is always time
to breathe
and if not her tears will fall
to evporate into joy
and I shall join the wind chorus
although you won’t like my song.
the named storm wakes me
with its whistles and drones
I sit here listening
trying to remember its name
I forget
but did I really take much notice
so of course I haven’t forgotten
if its name passed me by
That crack in the ceiling
that scar in my mind
that sinking
… softness of you
once
it’s futile
there’s nothing to remember
nothing to forget
nothing
but once