I am covered in Dawnlight
My snow boots deeply sunk into the night
And sun melting the icicles in my hair.
I fill my pockets with blue crisp stars
And lift myself into your arms.
But when I try to show you the light in my pockets
You see nothing but the beauty of my skin
Tanned by summer days.
And when I dance, I dance alone
With the moon singing in my thoughts.
Hiding behind your busy words
There is a silence:
A rendering of deep forests covered in snow
And oceans, glazed over by winter,
Where neither swans or magpies
Can reach you.
Keeping warm, in body and soul,
In togetherness.
Nailed to the sky with silver bolts,
Stilled of flickering but burning bright
In the quiet of winter nights,
Promising a dance partner
Made of stars.
When days are hard and frozen
Like steps in deep snow,
Dreams come to me
Like holly berries,
Brushed clean off snow
By an icy wind, to decorate
The winter-buried path ahead.
We are consumers of grace,
A forever renewable greenery
Gardened by a gatekeeping horizon
Opening and closing its borders
Before our dream-bespectacled scrutinization,
Feeding our numbness alternately
with empty words and promises.
The morning is white and
Sinless in its Christening gown.
The sea half-dark in the low
winter sunlight.
Under the paling February sky
A network of narrow light shafts,
Matronly guarding islands
Like deep green
Unfathomable eyes
Kholed by
Sharp Rock-layered cliffs,
Pour, from invisible palms,
Grace over the cupped land.
From here
All stretches out,
Changeable, dim and moody.
A bright-lit swathe of
Unquiet spirits
And an intricate web of bays
Still admitting the inscrutable
Tides of cognition.
