In this moonlit forest, autumn shimmers bright and crisp, through the boughs of old growth, like a wisp of star clusters. Softly it sweeps our high-mountain meadow in a dazzling down.
This night falls brisk, quiet as a whisper, when a great white owl echoes through the frosted cedars. Lover and beloved, entwined ‘neath midnight’s window, we sigh, enchanted by this lullaby floating on the freshening breeze.
In warm embrace we muse, until with dreams, we drift into a gentle slumber, aloft in wonder, unmoored of time and place. We breathe deeply this lover’s nocturne, wrapped in the splendor of the ebb and flow of magic.
ride the autumn moon
to seek the dreams of magic
enwrapped there gently
like a held breath of stardust
in crystalline folds of time
My head was turned, and my mind and my heart was opened by this man, Brandon Leake, a spoken word artist — winner of this season’s AGT. He made this white man look a little more deeply at what I think I understand, and I thank him for it! Truth and revelation can be found in unexpected places.
To elucidate. The power I found in Brandon was his ability to make me better “feel” a bit clearer, the impact that racism has on a black parent — his mother. That woke me to realize that I have never “thought” I was racist, and still don’t, when I intellectualize it. But I had no genuine inkling of how it really feels, and still don’t at its full depth and measure.
But I now understand, and feel, at least the initial threshold of that particular black parent experience, in that I know well, in my gut, the fear and worry I have regarding the safety and well bring of my children and my grandchild — and I don’t have to include worrying about their very life, simply because of the color of their skin. I have “known” that such a situation existed in the black reality, but I never had to include that in my portfolio of parental fears and feelings.
My 18-year-old son Aaron was killed, so as a parent/grandparent, I always hope their lives are safe. But Aaron was not killed for the absurd reason of the color of his skin. Now, because of Brandon’s remarkable ability as a poet and spoken word artist, he has made me feel a bit of that unfortunate black terror.
My mind and heart have been expanded a little further because of Brandon “Pookie” Leak, a truly remarkable young man, whose words and voice I hope continue to ring out with the power and possibility that he embodies. Please stay safe young man! Peace!
silver moon in black satin sky
bare your sterling soul on high
shimmer ‘cross this sleeping world
enchantment be this night unfurled
’til all dreams are dreamed tonight
’til pure hearts are lifted light
then new hope awaken strong
let peace be awakening’s song
are you traveling with me to the coast
if so, we will be leaving at first light
the need to be on time is uppermost
I want to be there, settled in tonight
the party promises to be a blast
cool people, drinks, and food of ev’ry kind
these soirees have been epic in the past
if we are late, we will be left behind
tomorrow it is breakfast on the beach
it’s there we meet our hostess for the week
she’ll have the masks she’s chosen, one for each
remember, after that we do not speak
then to the yacht, where wondrous games are played
magic – this high seas silent masquerade
A nonet, borrowing a first line from Lawrenson.
This one is done in a John Donne “Song” format (ababccddd).
He is considered a pre-eminent representative of the metaphysical poets.
Very Best Year Yet
~
summer has erupted in yet another disaster is there no let up in this misery and strife leaving this horror behind, please, can‘t it go faster too much terror and grief, rips the heart like a knife
exchanging today’s deadly disease for wildfire tomorrow its not fair to be trapped on this dark trail of sorrow
gold and joy in 2020, it was to be my very best year yet for my dreams were to flourish, I’d have all that I could get brassy fire ‘n tears are what happened, oh, such burning regret
2 nonets, borrowing their first lines from Merwin.
Goblins be Wan’drin
…goblins, witches, and ghosts are very active in the Northern Hemisphere throughout all of Autumn, the season of the dying of the light — so beware…
~
NEW VERSION
broken shadows across the cracked ground
trees — gold, orange, crimson, brown
leaves down, lay mottled ‘n crisp
rustle’n crunch, winds brisk
goblins’ be wan’drin
witches in flight
ghosts rise’n
autumn
night *
ORIGINAL VERSION
broken shadows across the cracked ground
trees turn — gold, orange, and crimson
leaves down, lay mottled ‘n crisp
rustle, crunch under foot
goblins’ be wan’drin
witches in flight
ghosts arise
autumn
nods *
Mourning the unprecedented wildfires currently destroying Oregon & California.
Paradise Ravaged
~
There’s peace, night-wandering these slumbering mountains, spellbound by their vast forests. In their dreams they sleep with the moon. I search their peaceful rivers. My spirit carries buoyant over their boulders and falls, my soul listening to ancient secrets whispered by their waters, echoed hauntingly in the treetops by great white owls.
These pristine mountains are breathtaking, unspoiled natural beauty. The fragrance of conifers intoxicate the night breezes, as moonlight drifts down dreamlike to blanket the forest’s canopy, to dance diamond-like on the chill mountain lakes. This special place is sacred, so close to my heart.
But this night, the breezes have become unbreathable, blistering winds, choked with soot and poisonous smoke. The rivers black, strangled with char and smoldering debris. Wild fires continue to rage and ravage. I weep — but will there ever be tears enough to again cleanse pure my defiled paradise.
fire dragons consume
poisonous vapors strangle
eden is dying
__________
span style=”color: #808080; font-family: helvetica; font-size: small;”>NOTE to “Blogger” site owners: I enjoy reading your work, but frustratingly, many “Blogger” sites DO NOT let me post comments? 🙂 So sorry if you don’t see personal comments from me on your “Blogger” site. But I will keep reading your work — and welcoming and responding to your comments here on Image & Verse.
NOTE to “Blogger” site owners: I enjoy reading your work, but frustratingly, many “Blogger” sites DO NOT let me post comments? 🙂 So sorry if you don’t see personal comments from me on your “Blogger” site. But I will keep reading your work — and welcoming and responding to your comments here on Image & Verse.
NOTE to “Blogger” site owners: I enjoy reading your work, but frustratingly, some “Blogger” sites DO NOT let me post comments? 🙂 So sorry if you don’t see personal comments from me on your “Blogger” site. But I will keep reading your work — and welcoming and responding to your comments here on Image & Verse.
