I hold onto the hope that someday I will see them. Those lights drug across the sky by a goddess with her water colour brush. Greens and blues and pinks that dance a star's song into being while the sky stretches and wakes up and prepares to host this fit of brilliance. When people down below lift their eyes to the heavens. Irises are filled and reflect a dazzling champagne of pastels which God has created. He wants to say 'I love you' and could think of no better way than this expression. Where snow gives way to reflective ice and the shiny sparkles slide silently through the night. It is the visual of the heart when in love, and it lights up the night like the first beautiful moment of a stage being brought to life. The conductor lifts his hands and a radiant explosion surrounds the audience. Music is not needed and none will ever accurately describe it. Few will see this spectacularity because the auroras only reveal themselves to the minds that wander and the hands that reach towards heaven.
my excuse is that i was raised by wolves, my dear
and i had my teeth filed into pinpoints
and i had my back hunched over until my spine was a golden arc.
but did you ever run with a pack, my dear?
your food came to you, cooked, prepared, served by a gloved hand.
and everything could be solved with a 'please' and a 'thank you'.
but our differences don't stop there, my dear
there is a distinction between school grounds and hunting grounds
between daisy chains and food chains.
or, if you please, packed lunch and slain lunch
better still: between praying and preying
between what one hears and what one herds.
yet here we are, my deer
and for all notions of civilized behaviour
you are the one baring animal teeth.
i ran away from all those
noises, the reality,
i ran away from the city
to meet you.
i could never ever forget
your smiles that showed me
how pretty the world is.
your laughs that showed me
how amazing the world could be.
you are the northern lights,
one of the most beautiful
persons ever. eos, herself,
is jealous of your beauty.
she then tried to make the world
dark, but you're there.
you exist to guide me,
you exist to help me.
you're a northern light,
the beautiful aurora of sky,
my adoration, motivation,
and my beacon of hope.
i will always be thankful
to meet you, my dear friend.
and again thank you,
for making me see the northern lights.
Eyes of sky with golden jewels
Dancing fingers upon the moor
Forest glades within her soul
The barren fields, her love consoles
Heart of liquid, pure and green
All the haunts her remains unseen
Bowles of light she holds up high
Until the Moon has tread the night
The ripest apples, she designs
To grant her wishes in every bite
Star-sparkling juice runs down her chin
With every morning, new life begins
Eyes of sky with golden jewels
Leafy fingers hang down low
To touch the rippling, cloudy calm
As crystal raindrops sing her song
-I've got bored of words.
-You tergiversate... Small world.What this bouquet of flowers is doing in the intermediate?It's a date?
-Ah... such prolixity... More champagne?
-What's the point?
-My aim? Mmm... to try to oscullate you.
-... What?... Such profane elixir do you desire?
-It'll be more than tasty.It's alleged...
-But, don't you distinguish the mayhem's reflection below?
-Your solicitude.. Ah!... What a nice champagne.Hmm... Cake? By the other way or not there's nothing at the ceiling.
-You've perused my protocol... A small slice, please.
-A kiss a skirmish.Palatable as this recipe... Well... apart from an armageddon...
-Stop pushing on boy.
-I already vanquished the inception, you know...
-Catastrophe is your trophy, but I disavow your apocalypse.
-I was expecting something more digestible.How's the alcohol?
-Hm!... As everything surrounding us.
-Ahhh... No... They just don't move.. don't have gravity...
-Funny waiter... Hovering waiter.Did you emend your canon?
-Champagne and desserts will not litigate your anticipation.You know.How strange is...
-The room? No... Is normal for it to circle upside down.
-In this desert? With all those people?
-They are frozen, and... before I veto, quivering in a hurt heart.
-Blown sand... popped champagne... Oh, I didn't notice the light fixture's embroidery.
-The sun's in the bottom.Look up... Its obumbration is into the typhoon.
-Standstill, nothing's synchronized...
-Is your tranquility dissipated? gone?...
-No.If isn't yours.
-I just still want that hug.
-Hmmm... I forgot you're a cold person...
-And you a hot girl... Irony...
-I'm apt to it...
Then an aurora flash
And splashing glass
Accompanied by springing sparks
Shattered bass walls
Begetting noctilucent dark and dusk
A hurricane, breathing the sun
Just dust to dust
Trembling he entered the bar with a cheerful smile,
In a dark green suit and a Panama hat.
Sun-dried wrinkles on his face and hands
Dotted with brown liver spots, passage of time.
Buttons of his white shirt open to the trunk,
Roman summer at last, a little too scorching for some.
Cherry angiomas glittery red,
Dilated blood vessels showing off his chest.
New freckles he never had and not to be
Confused with his only solitary mole,
Stuck on his lower bluish chapped lip
As he shivers struggling to raise his coffee cup,
To the mouth with both hands for just one sip.
In silence he dribbles and drools succeeding to gulp
Down the last drop, asking for the check
In a broken deep voice, one that has smoked a cigarette
Too many, scratching his drinker’s nose as he wobbles
To the cashier.
Paid and ready to proceed his wallet refuses to fit
Back into his rear pocket.
The frustrating challenge a matter of patience,
To which he inevitably renounces as he surrenders to hold
On to it while he waves his goodbyes to the bartender.
When I'm feeling broken, beat up or put down,
sad, lonely and had my soul tossed around.
I'm heartened to know I look up to see,
the same sky that you've placed your dreams.
You taught me lessons I know were true,
and made me feel so very close to you.
What you wrote touched me in a high degree,
I never realized what was lacking inside of me.
You taught me to sing of love not hate,
helped me to understand a child's loving state.
And I truly believe you, when you said,
You'd rather see earth from in a child's head.
You helped me float in my own fairy tale,
though I lived among people who lived life very stale.
So thank you little miss Aksnes, I love you in a way,
I don't know how to say it but you've molded my heart like clay.
And though we haven't been here long,
You have so much wisdom within your songs.
This earth needs you its always crying,
Its just been born, but its in danger of dying.
The words you wrote has made me think,
this language I write can be more than just ink.
I listen to you, and I picture valleys,
Even if I'm walking through run down alleys.
The fun I saw you having since day one,
made me for the first time realize, emotion can be sung.
You must have fallen down from the sky,
they don't talk about the star girl, and I don't know why.
And when I feel like crying because the world's in rough shape,
I know you'll be there to help me escape.
Your home is about one million miles from mine,
I think perhaps its helps your beautiful rhymes.
You took me to lands that do not exist,
but somehow turned my world into their wish.
Because of you I reflected,
on the side of me I'd rejected.
What you mean to me just cant be said,
I'm trying real hard but before I finish I'll be dead.
The great Green Mountains,
up where the tallest evergreens grow,
upward an outward,
toward the heavens,
a perimeter of boundaries,
where white iridescent angels,
Touching the clouds,
in winds of change coming,
gathered together sheltering storms, alongside barren maples and birches,
with shriveled others aging,
bowing down to winter's bone,
and ready for Spring's solstice.
in surging solar winds,
a million miles an hour,
40 hours after leaving their sun,
raining in an ariel shower,
emphasizing their greatness,
in an eerie tranquility,
behind a diffused hazy luster,
a distant moon light,
in a beautiful Glory Shining.
Silvery satin ribbons,
and celadon green bends,
as colors wait pensive to create,
a heavenly landscape,
for their part in the prism ballet,
these arial acrobats,
yearn to touch tips on sturdy cutouts,
of tall old aging trees,
Dancing into ever-changing,
an inspiring hues,
they move above,
in mystical rhythm,
a dark and mysterious,
black smoke rises between rays,
in the opaque darkest hour,
for the creation of,
a spiritual backdrop,
in the magnificent,
The darker the sky,
the brighter the light,
for an otherworldly setting,
while they mix the palate again,
I am lost in silent reverie,
for the forces that dance there in that blackness,
imparting comforting wisdom,
and healing to your soul,
like a hauntingly familiar sound,
music to your ears.
Moving like in an immensely,
active native conga,
while flitting eiree,
ghosts of glaciers perform,
when fueled folklore beckons,
these beauties from frozen skies,
spraying snow & tossing sparks,
as their created stars,
saturate the deep,
as their tears are shed,
in big butterfly kisses,
in lovely little fine wisps,
of cirrus smudges of light refractions,
bending in rarified veils of light,
into a seamless,
A hiding crystal clear,
deep Alice blue sky,
as colors are blending,
from azure to denim,
then turning periwinkle,
into auroral archways,
dusted in a tangerine glow
in transitioning brushstrokes,
gently cover impressionistic sketches,
evolving into luminism,
on an endless open canvas.
As I paint the words,
where I sit there quietly,
respectfully awaiting answers,
as clouds and moonlight smear,
into watercolor scenery,
an intimate engagement occurs,
the passion of nature,
these synchronized sky swimmers ,
As a stormy sun is forcing,
red light dancers,
colliding and becoming excited,
these powerful ominous portents,
becoming the framework.
Around a fantastic fluorescent show,
the cast wearing blushing pink,
and wild viola purples,
tinged in chartreuse green,
basking in beauty,
where hope lies,
in these colors I've never seen,
transcending skies of tomorrow,
into an age old masterpiece,
waiting patiently for this,
with an eager & beautiful,
Where the North winds,
send a brilliant light show,
of atomic wonders,
in watery pirouettes,
of shaped effects,
& teardrops sacrificed,
swirl in spirits of harmony,
I am transfixed,
an astonishing feat,
of brilliant pigments,
the mysterious lightness,
my drifters heart wanders,
melded into atmospheric colors,
we can only wish to see in this lifetime.
Where life seeds glide,
on the giving winds,
and Eagles and hawks can,
applaud this much beauty way up there.
a heavenly firmament,
where all the sacred souls come to die,
where all the very, very, wise end up,
where they all spend their eternal lives,
young and old alike,
eventually they all retire here,
bringing us hope or warnings,
a chance at redemption,
striking hot iron in glowing,
a gifted chance to share with us,
along with all the parished,
souls and spirits,
from native garb,
mocassin covered feet,
change into favorite animals,
stomping on the colorful floor,
a great bear,
a beluga whale,
a soaring raptor,
not wanting for anything,
walking in Native American circles,
to the sounds of long silent drums,
morphing & shape shifting,
where rain shadows dance,
in ancient skies,
celestial bodies are illuminated,
reflecting the fire circles,
from where distant oceans shore,
take me there...ancestors
take me there once more,
As night slowly declines,
as daylight seeps through cracks,
bleeding into tomorrow,
to fly again to share what they must,
they pray and worship their God,
and they trust..
And Aurora Borealis is her name.
Cherie Nolan © 2016