My eyes are open to the songs of wind.
My thoughts echoing the migratory cries of summer
Winding its way home.
The soft chiffon of sky is swaddling the bare black world
As my ears capture the rain of star dust
Nourishing another year’s end
With ancestral prayers.
Autumn nights and quiet woods,
Mirroring lakes without ripples,
No screams of pain or skid marks
From a life in full retreat.
Only heartbeats, echoing contentedly
Like a retired summer breeze
Inspiring flight in nature’s red wings.
The night air is starting to get frosty,
And with the cold and the blackening of nights
Comes clarity and a gentling of afternoons
Mellowing into autumn.
With a skim of white before our breaths
We float our summer selves into a sea
Of purple and gold.
I have drowned my soul
In the music of this land,
The Woods, the shores, the hills,
Until I have forgotten how to live
The tossing of the sea,
The stillness of sand in silver turmoil,
The storm-beaten trees bent in prayer…
But it is a life worth living
If your soul is on the speaking terms
The woods crave our loneliness…
Trees we once climbed and swung from,
Bound with our sorrows and joys…
They have become companions
Disrobing us of our worldliness
Until we again become purple shadows under
Their leafy wings.
I have spent mornings drinking beauty,
Walking along coastal paths
While growing wings
Spun of white surf sprinkled with the gold dust
I have learned to love the sea’s every mood,
Cast unto rugged gray cliffs
rising steeply from blue coves,
Or Caresses smothered unto white sandy dunes.
But the sea is never lonely,
It is full of whispering, beckoning, moaning
Of some great sorrow
Or great joy,
Imposed upon the land without excuse,
While solitary humans, like myself,
wander, awed and spellbound,
On the outer frame of it.