(Poem: 26.4.21)
Shapeless rumbling low and keen,
A hum of white noise
Against the blue background
Of a careless enlightenment.
Staring round at daisies,
Dandelions.
Budding awareness on the brink of new beginnings,
A lasting light that breaks the
Barriers,
Of mind,
Body
Nature.
Old as time, routine
as the lights that stop and start the flow,
Unseen programming that belies…
What?
Faith?
Truth?
Perhaps the knowledge of a better way,
Unfelt
By crooning songbird’s wing?
Midst which the bumbling, Featherless,
Fearless,
Flight of fancy carried off
beneath gentle breezes.
There is no silence.
Darkness barely brushes
The Surface
of teeming enternal spinning,
Forraging,
Living.
What of the bigger best laid schemes?
They bite at words and numbers,
Meaningless.
When before and after,
One way or another, anyway,
It turns around again.
Nothing.
A November kiss
On barren lips
That fades and shifts beneath;
Ephemeral tales told of yore
And yet…
Forgotten.
Under lock and key.
Buried long ago,
Beneath the trees.
AHF Writes 