A wave breaks on a distant shore
and all sound stops
forever.
No voice is carried on the breeze.
No one tells me,
“I’ll be home soon.”
Somewhere on the horizon
a bird flies toward the sun.
But it drops lower,
and darkness is all that’s left
to meet its tired wings.
My feet drag through the sand
and time stops
forever,
No waves break in the night,
and my tears tell me
I’ll never be home again.
One day I woke and looked around
but everything was different.
Unfamiliar shapes
loomed in the morning sun.
Had everything around me changed
as I dreamed of someplace better?
Rising slowly from my bed,
I cried
as memories like raindrops fell
through the shadows of my mind.
To my left
an open window
showed me someplace
I thought I knew.
But there was no way through the glass.
Outside a bird flew by,
its wings fluttered
like a heart in pain of death.
I looked away
and a face appeared,
staring through the windowglass
as though I were not even there.
I saw the sun
but all the trees were steeped in darkness,
bent and broken,
as though the weight of summers lost
would never let them find the light again.
I lay down,
crying,
for all was as it ever was,
save for myself,
the only thing different
in a world now strange
forevermore.
I ran through a golden field,
the grass beneath my feet
soft as satin,
sunlight on my face,
a warm and gentle breeze
lightly stroking my hair.
I heard a laugh like little bells
and reached out toward the light
that shone from everywhere.
I stopped,
breathless.
Before me was an open door,
a staircase on the other side.
I looked to the sky
and watched a bird fly overhead.
I stepped through
and the door closed behind me.
No grass beneath my feet.
But I walked
up the stairs,
looking for the sky above me
and the bird with restless wings,
but above me all was darkness.
So I walked
up and up.
I looked down only once.
No stairs stretched out behind me.
So I walked up
toward the place
where the sky should have been.
The rain falls
and a light shines through the mist.
One star
burning bright,
banishing the shadows.
The raindrops tell
of better days –
different days.
Infinite moments,
disappearing into the earth.
The rain falls
and no light shines through the mist.
One way
revealed
into the shadows.
The path disappears beneath my feet.
And darkness falls.
Through the window glass
I see
a bird flying high.
She twists and turns on a warm spring breeze.
Below her is a field of clover,
every purple flower
staring up at me.
And I watch,
silently.
The bird flies by the windowglass
and sees
a face staring out,
motionless
despite the warm spring breeze.
She circles once
and then again
and lands,
asking everyshing flower,
why?
Why does the face watch through the window
and never ride the warm spring breeze
into a field of purple clover?
I caught a glimpse of some Eternity
as I gazed toward an almost setting sun.
And in that moment time stood still,
the ache deep in my heart relieved at last
as every leaf caught in a gentle breeze
stood frozen in a heavenly repose.
And as the light turned golden all around
a single snow white dove flew overhead.
With arms outstretched I reached out toward the sun,
but something told me it was not for me,
that on no beating of a white dove’s wings
was there a haven waiting patiently.
I let the tears fall freely from my eyes
and with one blink Eternity was gone.
And as the dull eternal pain returned,
I watched the sun again start to descend.
I walked in silence as the wind picked up,
in search of someplace I could call my own,
where one short glimpse becomes reality.
Last night I dreamed of some far place
where time at last stood stood.
Before me stood a golden gate
atop a grassy hill.
And I felt peace within my heart
like never once before.
I wanted to stay in that place,
now and forever more.
But then I opened wide my eyes,
and, oh! The gate was gone!
My tears fell fast, for then I heard
time’s steady march go on.
Across an ocean black as pitch, some say,
there lies a land that even time forgot,
an ancient place where dwell forgotten dreams.
And if one finds perchance safe passage there
by searching darkest depths of memory,
a golden city will at last appear.
Though don’t be foold by beauty’s shining light,
for ‘neath the gold is only an abyss.
And when the city opens wide its gate,
revealed is naught but endless empty streets
beneath which breathe the souls who came before.
There is but one way down the golden streets,
no way to turn back on the path once found.
And at the center of that golden place
is where all roads at long last will converge.
And in the center is an azure pool,
it sings a siren’s call to weary feet.
None can resist the pull to water’s edge,
the lure of knowledge in eternal sleep.
With just one touch the universe revealed,
and light of gold gives way to starry night.
And in that instant one joins with the sun
that ever keeps that golden city bright.
A breeze caresses my cheek
and I hear waves breaking on a sandy shore.
Breathing deep the salty air,
I take one step
into a beam of sun.
And I know that it has shone forever.
I hear your voice
and I walk
until the sand gives way to stone beneath my feet,
and I turn
but behind me is only darkness.
I strain to hear
but no gentle breeze caresses my cheek
on which your voice can carry.
And so I walk
into the darkness
searching for that eternal sun,
though I may never reach the shore.
I will walk
until I feel the sea air blowing,
and hope you will be waiting
in the sunshine.
The little bird watches
from a gilded cage.
Singing
songs of sunny days,
falling leaves,
pouring rain.
A cold wind blows the treetops,
and the little bird watches.
Her wings open,
ready,
but never does the wind lift her up.
And she sings on.
The gilded cage hangs in the window.
I listen
to the little bird’s song,
and my heart hurts.
Through the window
I watch,
in my mind
an endless summer.
The cold wind blows the treetops.
I raise my hands
to the windowglass,
though never does the wind lift me up.
And storm clouds gather.
No longer does the little bird sing.
And my summer sun
gives way
to an autumn of regret.
Onyx City Writing 