Poetry of place

Can you imagine a necklace around a dove

Or the lights falling from the sky

Like my eyes bleeding from this remove

Into the orbit of an unknown

An older world dissolving about my feet

I tread softly upon this silken road

Wary of offence, and the clutter of possessions, revelations like

Thought and feeling clamouring from their perch

Well-meaning, but growing wearier with each ageing moment

Could I persuade it any other way

So deluded, so brave

And it all, and it all comes down to what remains

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Easier in surrender with no expectancy or doubts of certainty

Belief no injury nor a giving heart

The receiving tempered by old wounds and confessions

But as blood would have

Those phantoms disposed on the wind

Gone with what keeps coming back

And over that far hill

Rediscovering hope, that angel sang Gabriel to sleep

Left open the way to paradise or was it to judgement

As it goes, no throwing of stones can tell

Then in ovation, benedicting

Dreaminess a celebration, the missing muse of history

And this recognition, the fullness of being and oblivion

A kind of sanctuary

Looking out windows into the internal voice

Where the slipstream cruises to a cerebral sentient world

A precursor to that final warmly invented treat

Before the birds arrive

Homesick, but complete

 

 

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