Posted in Uncategorized, tagged attention, change, consciousness, earthquake, ephemera, landscape, nature, Nepal, night, Poetry, time on April 28, 2015| Leave a Comment »
Clouds flower in moonlight.
A wind rises, full of owls.
Cold that will wither the buds,
The sun will make right.
Far away, mountains have fallen.
What was, has crumbled.
We dream and dream and fall through time.
Each view infused, each moment passing.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged actions, before dawn, birds, consensus, cries, dissolution, emptiness, ephemera, hunger, hungry ghosts, individuality, morning, peace, Poetry, the machine, weightless on November 18, 2013| Leave a Comment »
PRETA
Are we cradled in this new, cold dawn
Or do we fall weightlessly,
Our feathered bones hollowed by the mighty?
It comes in waves and seems to say
You must remain, but I,
A majority of one,
A minority of millions,
See no way to please the chosen machine.
We weigh nothing,
Vaporous, without memory,
Vacated, echoing,
The inconvenient, avoided, disregarded,
Re-written.
What it is we seek has not been found
In this slow, death-quiet brightening.
This birdsong is not for us
Nor has been given us this breeze.
No blessings that are not earned,
No comfort not calculated.
To fall without sound, to fray
And neatly dissappear,
Not to whimper or moan,
Nor to cry out to the invisible.
I shall put on the wings of the crow,
His sharp eye.
I shall guiltless rise on storm
And consume the already dead.
Guiltless and open as the sky.
To accept nothing, to bless everything.
Our peace cannot be stolen:
It only lives within us,
And cannot be traded
Nor snuffed out.
Yet we tread the ruts of long war,
Futile, strive to best these dark passions
With muddy fires and sounds of ripping time.
Run, run, from silence,
Run from stillness.
The hounds of midnight mad for blood:
Their hunger is our failure to face
The white mirror of emptiness,
The fall,
The long fall,
With no end.
O ye birds of silent air,
Ye travellers before dawn.
—-
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cold, divergent action, ephemera, fulcrum, mind, moon, passing, peace, Poetry, spring, time, uncertain meaning on March 13, 2013| 3 Comments »
MOON SCREECH
Moon screeches across the sky-
Chalk on board,
Ice dust on the wind.
Layered circumspection
Is no wiser than
Reckless certainty.
Inside me
Scream a thousand
Small possibilities
Extirpated, snuffed out.
Inside me
A thousand more arise
Radiant effulgence,
Birth smiles.
It will take
No time at all.
It will take no time
To wipe all this away.
Swept clear,
So fragile
This dream.
simonhlilly 