i.


the stars do not shine
loneliness presses the air
into a tangle of last years withered
leaves,
loneliness in summer leaves
that whisper to a grey moon
a song of regret.


ii.


dreams of midnight,
cool rain,
songs more alive
than this low-roofed night.


iii.


teardrops like the ghostly moon, lost
against the heart that
flutters like a dark sky
breathing stars.
  

iv.


the mottled horizon
pools into greys,
tender eyed with
soft sadness,

in these dim hours when silence
cloaks the woods and
human laughter disappears

we sink against the softer sky
and the slow fade of moon and
long for dream, for everything
to reawaken and unwind.


v.


we are swimmers heading as far
out as we can get. surreal silver
stars, opening like flowers,
refusing to drown.

In the spaces that once held the ones we loved or loathed
are rooms where silence sits to wait upon us;
to precisely bring with it the thought that can caress,
if needed, or spur, if wanted.
And upon reflection the memories that have shaped us, and
subtly the choices within them to hold or unmake each one.
A centrifuge the potter’s wheel - the mind.
The choice always within our crafting gifts to mould,
to throw, to release or to refine.
Which memory will I spin today?
What forgiveness to bestow or fondness to befriend?
Such is the choice that with silence my contemplation brings.


MChallis @ 2015

Blue :
     surrounded by black
     for the emptiness
     a night sky

Red :
     for nothing I have
     that I could have had
     today

Green :
     was followed by a rain
     the pain - while subtle
     was the cause for insane

Purple :
     a royalty proven
     the queen called
     a falsity - the King folded

Clear :
     the sky after a rain
     the heart after the last tear
     the crystal everywhere

Remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly
and clearly;
and listen to others, even the dull and
the ignorant; they too have their story.