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    • CommentTimeMar 7th 2012

    Come. Walk. And let us gather
    Silence, around us for a clock
    For this moment I would rather
    Keep close the quiet and invoke
    Deep stillness, a repose to ease out
    The thought and sight and hearing
    Of vastness unencompassed, a noiseless shout
    Of sheer, stark glory, we are nearing
    A perfection of happiness? This picture
    Spins inside, but outward calm
    Remains, so that wild bird's chirr
    And first spring flower meet in my palm
    Beauty seen on an infinite sheet
    Realized in a brief, painful, heartbeat


    Vision can't quite stretch that far
    Eyes creating false bright lines
    Across the blue where no clouds are
    Summer's come out, dressed to the nines
    Like a flurried puppy's bounding
    Panting tongue, a lolling grin
    All the life in full force pounding
    Sun's gleams falling hot on skin
    Hidden eyes with black sunglasses
    Everyone's a movie star
    Barefoot on the clean green grasses
    Railroad ties ooze thick dark tar
    Colors vivid, noises loud
    Long live the summer - golden boughed


    There can be no solace
    Not in the quiet of the rain
    There can be no peace
    Not in the dark clouds lain
    Across our autumn sky
    Or in the sunshine stain
    Slashed into the afternoon
    Unless this day should deign
    To pause and breathe
    A deep, deep breath and gain
    Moments of stillness entire.
    Lose the worry of future pain
    Jarred out of a monotone grey
    Into the shades of a glorious day

    Grey Day's Poem

    Fellow travelers, share the path with me
    I walk here in the whispered hum
    Listening to the distance, that I might see
    The air tastes soft and from the plum tree
    A few dark leaves are pushed by rain

    It is easier to be alone, to find
    A private wilderness in this end
    Of December, of the year, the hind
    Days after Christmas, before we send
    The old calendar to its peace

    The houses hide the people, tuck
    Them close in under their eves
    And they say the paths have too much muck
    And the snow's canister too large sieves
    To share the path just now

    But I come out into the air
    And the winds are soft today
    The grey stillness of the sky is fair
    And a few birds stay to whistle by the way
    Not a wild glory, but a glory still

    The smell of wet leaves hanging faint
    The rustling willows are chimes
    Water streaks on trees - dark paint
    And here in these muted rhymes
    A traveler's peace.

    But share the path with me.
    • CommentTimeMar 7th 2012
    2nd poem down is the only new one, but it completes the set, so I grouped them all together.
    Beautiful word pictures, they evoke the seasons indeed!