Friday, April 22, 2016

Day 22: Still the Brisk Sparrow Song

Senses alight to the once-removed sting of Winter's cut 
   Memories flood 
Wrapping bone to the black & white images of 1968
Smelling of gingersnaps & tasting of pink pistachio nuts
Held in my father's hands Irish-pale tinged bourbon-late 
   Stilled of tempest & storm in the wee after-hours of a 
      Borealis glow   
Held in that 
   Timeless arcane present glow of ticking clocks       
Dream breathing contained and measured          
   Tick tocking tick tock comes the snow ….
Ivory-taupe curtains part to curtains of crystals ice clear 
These moments captured, held and treasured  
  Oh Child! 
Sleep with Summer rain & the green of Spring growing 
      Oh Earth! 
Pause in night's space and hold to precious hope 
         Oh Love!  
               You will find me cobalt knowing
Pressed against a star 323 light years from the Sun 
   As seen thru a Celestron Telescope 
  On the first Saturday after the Winter Solstice      
       Find me, drenched in tiger's milk          
Wearing tangerine & ruby silk             
Ah!  How the Taurus moon transports thru 
   These walls to palace-pleasure
     To serve an ivory draught of sanity's mindful measure 
       Beginning's taupe  
Black & white become varied to the gray    
   Gray becomes the night as glow becomes the heart       
      Beat beating to the swirl of ice, glass, rye & whey
Why in such a kaleidoscope must we so soon depart?      
   Age & memory lie upon the pale hands beholden    
Silent child knows no demons on her tongue to sing
Sorrow & Mirth; sisters, knitting under moon-glow   
   As love lies waking ever-golden       
Art, beauty, music define 
   The deep amber spectrum sting          
How do we come to measure the lives we know?
Of darkest blue-indigo night, hearts beat & dwell    
   To tell of stories that rest in Willoughby's tomb
Holding onto secrets and stories under carnelian's spell
         Oh what wonders will there be to bloom?    
Tender are nights where all sleeps but one 
  One whose magic weaves between worlds of 
     Glow & Gray
One whose pale Irish hand 
   Knows how to steady the light    
Tender are the dawns of Cherry Blossom Sun       
Tuck me in and hold me tightly sweet to this day          
   Wake me to Sun & Snow bright 
      Spring dances in dreams on this night   
         Smelling of pine & blue-vanilla skies       
Tasting of malt, ginger & dream-flights         
As Summer waits steady and sure in myth's sugar sighs
   Rest a bit still, as pink becomes day
Rest in warm sureness and think of Springs clover
   Greet the day Oh Child Wise!
We are the Northern Lights
To the Sun, to Love we move ever closer ….