Slowly the silenced soil awakes
In great uncoilings of morning;
With heated blades their gas escapes,
Funneled from a foreign space,
A foamy, loamy environ
Beneath this heathy earth
Where truths are boiling in cauldrons
And with sediment recoiling.
Up here, for now at least,
Cold air, hoar frost,
Joggers puffing underneath
Skies as thin and grey
As dreams in a mute swan’s fleece;
Dog-walkers convene
With latent conversation,
Still wearing knitted hats,
Last year’s scarves
And woollen gloves,
Their feet patting paths
Like rain-charming starlings –
Only, the worms that emerge
Are solemn words reverberating
From our lost and lonely interred,
Their vapour trails rising
As blinding reminders;
The weeds and moss
As speechless as froths
Of periwinkle –
Embosser of Murderous Time –
And snowdrops huddled
Within a darkening corner,
Nervous, fragile ambassadors
Held fast to those Masts of Time;
Spring’s contract is unfettered
And these vernal lows are bettered;
The Goddess of Dawn stretches
Indolently, and is yawning
Before her audience
Begin their eternal dance.
Tag: appreciation
Haiku #731 – #732
731.
Are there miracles
Higher-made than walking through
A falling blossom?
732.
Beautiful blossom,
A soft and welcome flurry;
Less so, still, than you.
Savour My Saviour
I’ll savour this day
Despite daily hurts;
One of so many
Until we emerged;
If lived without hurting
I’d own lesser words
For usurping circadian
Grasshopper thoughts,
To find Life’s Arcadia
Held by our terms,
Not yet in wide heaven
But here on this earth.
Haiku #632
632.
I imagine you
Are told you are beautiful.
Yet I am still mute.
Haiku #578
578.
Beauty is wordless,
In that no words could deserve
To describe your love.
Haiku #377
377.
They struck six cow-bells.
I don’t know if the dead heard,
But we applauded.