.
.
for years suspended
.
in the crevice of between…
.
regret or forget…
.
.
.
speaking or silence…
.
numb silhouette safe between
.
love and protection.
.
.
.
shadows disappear
.
in the white of fallen snow,
.
each Spring forgives the
.
.
.
impatient crocus.
.
.
.
.
Time erases shadows and
.
Love resolves the wounds.
.
.
.
.
.
.
how eerily silent
.
this low and permanent sky
.
weighed heavily in veils of gray,
.
that sunrise of so forsaken a faded light
.
announces morning from night.
.
.
.
falls and falls and falls
.
this relentless snow,
.
pillowing high on window sills
.
and muting each fresh sound it buries.
.
tentative voices die slow in drifts,
.
.
.
and this morning’s rush is
.
suspended in our collective complaint.
.
such swift surrender of steely urban arrogance,
.
as my skyscraper city is helplessly
.
brought to its knees.
.
.
.
yet the under world still spins
.
and wanders in merciless carousels
.
of cruel days after hungry nights,
.
the aimless trails of pre dawn paw prints
.
pattern the pristine powder.
.
.
.
.
some music to read my first Tanka by.
it takes a few seconds to begin.
.
.
.
.
.
then, not Now
.
.
.
.
.
the night falls so short…
.
.
this day… it’s already known,
.
.
feel chills in my bones
.
.
before cold air cracks my skin.
.
.
Beast of Imagination,
.
.
.
.
why torture me so
.
.
with your images… of then?
.
.
why is it you tease
.
.
and taunt me with history?
.
.
and clothe me in colors
.
.
.
my eyes do not see?
.
.
i reach hard for… the Moment,
.
.
long for the Present
.
.
of the… what could be Now.
.
.
.
but.. this day…this day…knows then.
.
.
.
dear friends…these two poems were always planned to be companion pieces, i was just waiting for ‘the day the leaves fall’ to combine them. oddly enough, the day ‘respite’ posted, the wind played it’s part. this beautiful instrumental played it’s part as well, the second poem was written to the tempo of the music. if you pick it up, passages in the poem should coincide with crescendos in the song. ty, and i hope you enjoy!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
respite.
.
.
.
the still Autumn wind
.
.
suspending leaves in… mid fall,
.
.
resting in blue sky….
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
the day the leaves fall.
.
.
.
because only a milisecond
separates stillness from storm
shrill winds suddenly howling as
sleepy worlds sleep, stripping
bare all we know.
.
.
each Autumn leaf
and warming palette of life,
my safe womb under canopy
is such beauty discarded.
trampled like litter,
.
.
along streets
and on sidewalks.
because
everything changes,
the day the leaves fall.
.
.
.
.
and the squirrels
they quicken their forage
fast finding bounty,
and begging for handouts,
before first frost concretes soil.
.
.
because
everything changes,
the day the leaves fall.
a flourescent white sky
is falling upon me
.
.
is blinding
these eyes, has
brittled these bones.
the ground shifts unstable
my thoughts are unsteady,
.
.
foul memories haunt me
the feared shapelings of doubt.
ghastly spirits gather,
like ghosts they’re in hiding.
and lurk in grey clouds,
.
.
bleeding in
and… bleeding out.
because
everything changes,
the day the leaves fall.
.
.
oh
sing your song to me
my sweet songbird of seasons
beckon me Homeward
my loyal siren of Love
i hear your melody,
.
.
as i stand pale among trees.
our colors erased,
and our hearts are in doubt.
cradle me warm in your
down feathered embrace,
.
.
nestle me closer as
the winds now are scowling!
.
.
because
everything…. changes,
the day…. the leaves… fall.
.
.
.
who could know then 