Coyote’s mournful howl echoed
in the new moon’s enchanting sultry ether;
breathing the living harmony of the wilderness rhythm

He seemed to sense a soul reincarnation
      within a pervasive spirit light
      an oft misunderstood
      common thread shared
      this hallowed land’s night

An uncommon Zen stirring from within,
              stifling apathy ..,
. . . of rumble deep beneath
      a dormant volcano reawakening ;
      that which lies undiscovered
      just before the ruptured moment ..,
      liberation of release ―
      dust and ashes taking flight

Through open window              insomnia churns
                          fifty shades of blue ..,
      cast in shadowed hues of broken silence

Coyote stirred the stillness
      with a hauntingly familiar cry
      reading the ridge-top echoes
      like the book of my mind

" YIP YIP   A ―W O O H !!! " . . . the somber plea

For it is in these final hours chosen chore
      the recurring torn
      these chains and things

Coyote was going there ―
      to stand these watermark crossroads
      this hour of need

Accepting brother has always been lonely
      sometimes anything
      means something - -
and so it goes ..,

Coyote communes in pulse
      from ancient realms
      this sacred blood ..,
                Om
         the lost chord

      wounded healers ,
. . . one mutual spirit
      runs marrow deep
      where dogs run free

The moan of doves whisper to the impending dawn
. . . always known these days
      too soon do come and gone

What once was a life well lived ,
      s l o w l y     e v a n e s c i n g
      like the summer river’s flow

some say ..." you never miss the water
      'til the well runs dry "
. . . regrets a waste of time - -

Rumination, a loathsome silent reverie
      a taunting unsolved koan

      an unplanned oxymoron ,  
      beget of a deafening silence
. . . dust sleeps with indifference
      veiling a beautiful handmade
      unstrung guitar
      muted - - abandoned,
      tone poems, unsung

and so "re-begins" the task ...
      come what may rise up
      into the dark star's light ...

Coyote was going there - -
      a dawning metamorphosis
      under another nebulous sky

. . . refreshed by Luna's potent alchemy bestrewn
      in her spellbinding lambent moonlight elixir of life ...


harlon rivers  ... 5. 21. 2015

Maybe it's been written
somewhere in the constitution
     of the waning moon

                                         ― When somebody loves you,
                                               you can never be lonely ―

But, appearances
  to the contrary,
the moon is sometimes blue;

counting stars alone
in a sky full of stars
is just about as lonely
as 'once in a blue moon'
                              can be ―

Like when the night is yours alone
                  or feeling alone
               in a crowded room

hearing Hank Williams moan within your silence
       "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry"

                                         ― When it's hard to say
                                               you love someone,..
                                               but it's harder to say
                                               when you don't ―

                • • •

A coyote's pleading howl
breaks the silent twilight engulfing trance
cast by the dappled moonlight;
like there's some kind of lonely madness
    swallowing him whole,..

                     as
    these two hollow eyes
                 gaze out through
                                     the chilly,
                                            sobering
                                                 refreshed
                                                   Autumn air
                                                             ­    spilling
                                                                ­  in through
                                                            the open window,

                                                        ­           counting stars ― alone
                                                           ­             in a sky full of stars

                                                       ­             the crackle of the fireplace
                                                       ­            echoes, startling the silence
                                                         ­                of a feigned warmth
                                                                ­          from the other side
                                                                ­ of an otherwise hollow room

and i feel frayed as a hole in an empty pocket with nothing left to lose

the impending dark winter nights are lonesome
            and  linger longer than before ...
  
seeing the empty space beside me
   I remember how it really really aches to just be ...

                                                            *­lonesome as a blue moon ― *

✩                   ✩                        ✩                                       ­ 
                ✩                   ✩                    ✩                           
✩          ­                                                      ✩
         ­                                                                 ­                                 ☽

moonless ― rivers ... 2017

You followed down through the gathered pages
to the  labyrinth that leads back through the changes
A long and twisted line of unmapped rivers,
*** holed low-roads and tattered mileposts
glancing homeless back-alleys as dark as lonely crossroads

Past the broken wings that fell from skyward treetops
scattered feathers amongst rose petals wilted
at the hand of tear stained faded photos
of frozen black and white faces;
hidden ghosts in the closet that fell from grace

The pathway narrows where the traces dissipate
passing under burning bridges, beneath locked stairwells
A fickle feather floating upon rivers ragging
like the hubris disconnectedness of time rolling out to sea ―
Shadows growing darkest as you reach the blackest silence
and you kept the answers to all the questions at arms length
hidden in the darkness ― where you saw love disfigure me

It was then and there I knew I'd dreamed of someone like you
looking for someone more than I could ever be
Just an unsated curiosity,    trying to see beyond
your own misunderstanding,   to feel and touch
an unknown depth beyond  reach

As sunset pales the distantness, the night is yours alone
when  tomorrow's  morning  rain
hangs  on  the  falling  leaves       ―       I’ll  be  gone
Just a wayfaring loner in a lonely world

Where rivers are only water
                                         and love was once a flowing river
I thirst to swallow ― 
                                         to wash away these tracks of my tears ...


                                      rivers ... 2017

Penned on watermarked cotton paper
Cursive letters script the words
of a surrendering rhythmic rhyme.
The ardent sonata was written
by the light of a Blue Moon’s shine.

The blood red ink bled through
the white wrinkled cotton pages;
musical notes dried by the warmth
of glowing Moon Beams radiance
in the subtle pollination breeze...

The maestro Coyote’s howl cried out!

Instinctively rousing the stillness of the night;
       a feral essence echoed
       through the eerie silence
       of the distant horizon,
bringing helpless lovers to their knees.

The words to the Cabernet Sauvignon
       stained midnight  lullaby,
       were emotions quilled,
       blending an aura accenting
       organic warmth of tones...

       The native maple trees'
flowering canopies of Spring
released a dusty yellow pollen
onto the watermarked cotton sheets.

In a moment of rapturous intimacy,
       an elixir of intoxicating bliss
illumined the achingly euphoric moments.
A natural untamed wildness was exhaled;
       savored ecstasy released
       into a passionate song of love …

That poignant melody forever lingers,
       like hieroglyphics on the walls
of some long lost abandoned cave.

Engraved, etched, brushed and stroked
       onto the brattice canvas
       of a musical Minstrel’s
            melodic montage ...

       Watch the artiste’s fingers
       prancing graceful ballet
       Worn down catgut strings

                                *moan
          
     ­                  weep

              purr**

       crying out lustfully.
     as if it were
    enraptured lovers'
  breathless sighs

  the rhythm’s cadence
whispers a masterpiece
       in an infinite
       harmonious time...

       The tempo’s lines
                Phrasing…

                 ...hush...!

             ♪♫♪ ~ ♫  ♪♪

        Listen to the pictures flow...
Listen to the weeping guitar strings
      of the passionate troubadour
stroking the metaphorical canvas scene.

       The ebb and flow
       of the musical rhythm's throb
arouse the Blue Moon’s hypnotic  allure,
    throwing incandescent shadows
    that dance around Moonbeams.

Joyfully twirling, blissfully embracing
in the blossoming Forget-me-not fields;
            Bluebonnet Lupine
               swirl and tango
       with the moonlit breeze.

       Lilacs fragrant aroma drifts
with spring’s churning romantic haze;
rekindling this fleeting memories recital.
The Minstrel and the Minstrel’s song
         now yearn to be set free ~

      Timbre without reverberation …
The twilight serenade was never penned
  to be hidden from the Nightingale

A romantic moment’s sorrowful lament
to be abandoned like a broken dream;
   fading unnoticed into forevermore ―
      Unsung,  unsaid, unreleased,
                     unrequited
                through eternity…

              The maestro Coyote
       is a wilderness troubadour
       illumined under the gloaming
               full moon’s spell.

                Howling soulfully...
               wailing impulsively ~
              ... crying hopefully
             pleading mournfully
                     lamenting
the Minstrel’s breathless cadenza ...

A bitter sweet musical embryo of love
                 found and lost
                       below
           the full Blue Moon’s
               glistening light…



©  H.  Rivers ... 2012, 2013
           all rights reserved

The fleeing clouds have cleansed the tawny earthen meadows
Migrating sun doth steal away waning light of summer’s glee
High atop fir boughs bow in wind whispered homage
To the sapience the coloured leaves hath gleaned

The sweet scent of auburn brindled pinecone clusters
Ooze of  glistening pitchy resinous fruit
Sticky figured squirrels chatter while they gather,
Stashing a survival cache of acorns and spinner seeds,
For another moment in sleepy winter tide dreams

A swirling eddy of spiraling leaves whirl beneath the tall timber
Fluttering gracefully with a gravity only falling leaves embolden
Enchanting like the evanescent timbre poignant piano notes decay
Writhing silent as summer Jasmine’s fragrant final bloom

Dandelion wishes soaring higher to kiss the fleeting winged skies
Lazily adrift up and over Cascade Mountain Crest
Fuzzy treetop flyers ascending far beyond darting dragonflies below

The sliver of golden harvest moon’s blossom aglow ,…
While wishing upon a shooting star's paling gleams
Serendipity sown about whimsically in the blustery wind
For to sow the will of untamed heart’s desires                                    

A festive troop of Chickadees clinging like tiny acrobats
Foraging on ripened ginger hued fir-cone seeds
Wings to the sky wave goodbye to the deciduous cadence
Softly wafting with a pungent Lavender potion scented breeze

There is a secret place where memories go to hide deeply alive
Amongst the wild wood and impending leafless trees,
The only place on earth I've ever understood a sense of belonging

Where Autumn coloured leaves whisper in the gentle breeze ,…
                  “I would do it all over again”

Come September ,..when the leaves come falling down


                      © ... September 15th, 2016