Aurora

Day clangs in my ear,
a half-born dream clings to a corner in my mind,
clambering to take its first breath as my conscious world rises beyond its grasping tendrils.

I lie silent, eyes resisting the opening
that will doom its birth
and leave me with only a haunting of you
to grace my day.

LCA 2008

The Embrace

I sowed the seed of hope and saw it blossom.
I cultivated love and felt its warmth.
I did not seek the harvest of pain I now reap,
but I embrace it.
As with the hope and the love,
it belongs to me.
In my embrace, it will lay down its weight,
preparing my soil for
hope and love to blossom again.

LCA 2007

Now that you have gone
- it would be natural to say:
I miss your touch, your smile, your sighs,
sharing your every day.

Those aspects are now absent,
leaving in constant shade
the many footfalls you have left
and impressions you had made.

Harder still I must endure
our connections outside time
Sunset, moonrise, rains and snow,.
whose issues were yours and mine.

How do I explain to the rising moon
that you're no longer near?
And tell the thundering summer storm
that I alone now hear?

Will the falling snow now understand
I alone count each flake?
Does Earth's Mother feel, as I now feel,
your absence as an ache?

I must trust the passing season
and time's beat marching on
to ease the reason for this pain
- now that you have gone.

LCA - 2007

Springing Hope

I regarded a tree
in the yet cool days of early spring:
arms blown bare from the winds of winter's cold heart,
brow bent low,
bark peeled back from the ravage of dearth.
Yet, in its lean could be sensed the gently weak pulse in fingers,
up and up and up toward light and coming life.
The cycle of darkness wheeled into a cycle of life.

And the tree regarded me,
frayed from my winter's assault
and we leaned together into another spring.

LCA 2008