deepundergroundpoetry.com
Ever Bearing Light
Yet this morning was like any other,
The repetition lost
in remnants.
Every season falling
in a soft flurry on the sand,
on the wooden-weathered
mellow decking,
on the brittle edges of a haunted stare.
No fire in those hills,
no finger
bare of august blooms.
(the quiet rain)
Do I find you beneath trees, here
bathed in sunlight?
And through these eyes do you shine
so bright and bold?
What sort of lines would ever hold you...
kindly scattered
leaves.
Yet this morning was like any other,
Floundering around in the lashing breaker-waves,
in crashing lake splashes,
sprinkling hisses upon rocks.
While our socks were
there in the sand... waiting.
(as in the heart, these hands)
Though... many winters passed
before we found
them again.
Of course, you were merely a ghost
by then... and I
had no idea
(oh morning)
what hurt
you bore.
Do I find you here,
bathed in the breezy
green dances
along sunlit tips?
And of this world, shining out
from forever within
you...
Thoughtfully scattered amongst
all the moistened
roots and pavements
(all the same).
Published 30th Aug 2019
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30th Aug 2019 12:57pm
Please let me know if you ever publish. Your offerings possess such an astute gift of awareness coupled with spiritual insight. Your poetry is where experience meets gratitude, melancholy, and longing all in the same breath.
