Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Earth Song

Sun, take me.
Earth, let me rest
And seep into your soil,
Your healing breast.

Morning Song

Be as a sweet nocturne to my ear,
Beautiful in nostalgic melancholy,
Or as a thorny rose, for fear
Thou should be plucked from memory
For thy odor. Moved to tears
Would I be if sweet incense
Were inhaled cheaply, for here
Unworthy senses give no recompense

And no reminder of vision seen.
Lost by waking breath
Like ethereal steam.
Your vibrant imagery, to death.
Oh sweet nocturne, oh passed dream.

A Midnight Song

And the shadows of the heavens
Hide Diana's brilliant face.
Their ethereal steams and skyward fogs
Do cloud her midnight grace.
At half past one I hear the night song,
But the sky is shrouded in this place.

The air, so chill to freeze my blood
With fear, does fail at its post,
For safe I am inside my coat.
Through blindness, I will feel the ghosts.

So in the trees I hear the steps
Of something midnight strolling.
I hear its feet tread on the leaves.
It should be gone, come morning.

I hear a song in howls around
As something wanders near me.
The light of night cuts through the clouds
But for a moment.  Then I see.

It's on this bright december night
Should something come a shining.
If weren't it for the sky's dark fight,
The moon would not be hiding.

Sea and Sky


If I should drape about my shoulders
The ancient, velvet shape of sky,
I'd show you all the shades of stars
And teach you constellations' cries.


Reflect, I would, your shifting grace,
And hold you, whether black or blue,
And on your best and cloudless nights,
Respond with all your solemn hues.


To dare to dance, to bet our lives
While we, the dark horizon host,
To mold that line, our one endeavor
And of our boldest virtues, boast.


So smooth, our sinews intertwine,
Supporting, sifting, sliding back
At midnight hours, free of the sun,
And left to roll in supple black.


To think I thought I loved the moon.
I've lost my lust for starry eyes.
I feel no fear of sunny skies.
I've fought my way through midnight lies.
To think, I thought I loved the moon.

The stars, outshone by golden fire,
Once made me drunk as cloudy night,
But now I see the brilliant light.
So now I quit, and will not fight
The stars, outshone by golden fire.

To think I thought I loved the moon.
In daylight now, I start to croon.
In warming rays, I start to swoon.
And to think,
I thought I loved the moon.