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Posts Tagged ‘moon’

Drift

DRIFT

A half moon wanes,
Floating on birdsong.

The world spins towards darkness,
And spins towards light.

Clouds stretched, skeined,
Soft-edged, rippling.

A drift, a slow drift
Into day.

This quiet time,
Twilit, a gift given
Before the goad of doing.

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DAWN CHORUS AND MOMENTS OF FROST

As if this feather, slow-turning, falls,
One breath of ice, branching blades
Arcing ghosts of fern, arced ghost of forests.
Pinioned cold, eager, aware, edge fractured.
Fingertips feeling for pattern, the familiar
Stretched pale, translucent.

As the scattered, sprinkled pierce of sound,
Woven between moonlit pale dawn wind,
Tumbling, cascades and choirs,
A flurry of beak and breast-soft down.

As all life joined up by song,
No less, no more meaning than this.
Small hearts full and pouring,
The vessel, vehicle, of the world.

No more and no less than this:
The opening of small mouths,
The fast tremble of accepting hearts.
Light now, and slow revolutions through space.

This place, placement, placid, pellucid.
Transcendent fingers frosting fine feathers,
Growing, though not grasping,
Water flowers framed in ice.

Small time, halted, crystalline.
Slow arcs of how things are,
How they happen.
Seen, unseen, diverted, amalgamated.
Dawn chorus and the moments of frost.
Suspended breath, then
Light and song.
No more, nor no less
Than this.

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TALLIS EXULTANT

Golden moon rests
Upon a throne of low cloud.

All night long-
As bright as day.

Dawn shall not diminish her:
Sinking radiant
Into new lands.

A long music,
A choir of days.
Tallis exultant.

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MOON RENDERED SAVIOUR

It drifts, it slips, slivers, divides, diminishes
Slides, slides
Though the sky moves not,
Though the silence remains.

Heart’s division
An ache, a season,
A mist, a smoke of lust
Unslaked, bitter as ivy.

No reason, no recall.
A habitual residue
A dust of sorrow
A settlement too familiar,
Mica, clay, chalk, bone.

Shadow moons, blue lifted light,
Relapse, rapsody, requiem.
A heavy ransom for gold,
A skirl, spiraling chill.

But this song, abstracted,
Extended, drawn out, attenuated
A nerve or a vein tampered,
No remedy but to feel more
Not less, not, never, turning away.

Control, unfurl, unfold,
Lips and fingers unpetalled.
One moment silent
Naked eye, naked ear.
Stand upright, balanced,
Worthy on the world.
______

Rather abstracted and sketched. An impressionist or expressionist, or maybe symbolist….a translation from the movement of inner zephyrs…..a little of something, though I know not what….

20130924-231947.jpg

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DREAM WORKS

Dark moon
Ripples through
The world.

Strong winds
Along the coast,
Fires pushed fast.

The buried stir,
The sleek hoarders
Of wisdom, stir.

Next to nothing
Is the answer.

A satin edge,
A mighty stillness
Witholding breath,
Inner heat.

Abiding
In emptiness,
The dragons of formation.

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trial3

A LOVE SONG OF THE MOON

sideways drift
long bones curve

surprising silk,
always surprising

sideways drift
lilt

dream eyelid smile
opening pale, lucent

slip slow
foam falling
drip,dribble

one drop
viscous, sweet

night falling in
acres: time blankets

enfolding white
silent gasp, always,
always

ever is
slightly vanishing

hidden, certain,
downwards

long-boned,
spine line
tingle-tipped

inward curve,
coved, curled

combed, covered,
feathered

sigh breathing
bell

snow cold
melting, settling,
melting

—-

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4.MOON AND MEMORY

there is no limit to the stretch of words
yet they shall snap back to the punch of present,
piquant, drenched, unpersuaded:
the insistent knot and never of this loss.

four times
(since severed heart turned stone, hope faded),
four times the moon has drained the palest light,
punctured, bled out, trespassed, wilted.

four times, too,
risen, filled, flowered again.
memory and forgetting is the long answer to all.
the longest of views: a levelling balm, recycled effulgence,
finally ingested, become ornament and unbound.

rippled eternal edge,
each falling is a misunderstood choreography –
taking wing, pushing out, interrogated possibility.
an orbit. a turning away and a turning towards.

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1
moon leans down.
spirit of the departed
pale, smiling.

in the yakitori bar
every face
a character from Hiroshige.

we bend to each other
laughing
at the unfailing sorrow
of our human condition.
sake tasting
of tears.

warm night
cicadas tisk and tut:
our homeward staggering.

—-

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Haiku moment

Night rain
The broken sky
Puddle moon

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MOTHER MOON

She pours it all out,

Empty, ringing.

She knows

Fullness will come again,

And she will pour

Herself empty

Without regret.

Teach us,

Mother moon.

****

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