Closing the book
wherein I laid
I rest the tireless pen
atop the aged leather.
The fire, still roaring,
Looked more alluring.
I nestled by the warmth
of the charred hearth
The flames crept slowly out
to embrace my body
taking me in.
Fuel for the fire
I give myself
to the pyre.
We remain inside an empty hearth
as ashes from a fire long forgotten.
They blocked the chimney so no wind can get in,
we remain undisturbed and wondering,
if tomorrow could prove its worth.
Then maybe we would have died for something.
We won't take the long way 'round
The mountain high, singing in the sky
I'll dance and shake my cares away
And plow right through with all the grace
Of a rhino on the savanna
So look above, and look below
Don't worry what it is you know
The snow is piling up outside
So take a shovel, leave your pride
Get outside, start shoveling
The fire's got me on the mend
If only it could lend me a friend
A single spark would do me good
But I think the fire will sit
And keep on muttering
Now I find the day is at an end
My wishes haven't been fulfilled
But it's okay, I'll sleep for now
And wake up in the morning loud
Wishing, always wishing
LOWER THE SAILS!
It's time! It's TIME,
We leave for the day!
So long, Tortuga!
We'll be back, in a while.
But for now, its the sea,
For my crew and I.
The sun is setting,
We'll follow the stars.
Breaking from our bars.
The warmth that we have,
Our ship, our Family.
The 'Arabella' sails out,
To the Hearth of the sea.
This is kinda a poem... from a book... that doesn't exist?
Hear the asynchronous pulsation,
Clicks of eyelids, toggling,
And the beating of a heart:
A Life, in thick layers of rhythms,
Coating a stubborn core.
See the white curtain of the mansion,
Behind windows, dancing,
And the fire in the hearth:
A Life, in thick layers of stones,
Glowing it out with warmth.
- Written in August 2017.
With the words that I speak
I conjure the joys of our youth— now past
Immortal on the condition of our delayed mortality
Emblazoned in the collective memory of our twin souls—
As my sight goes soft at the edges, tinged gold
Reality makes way— we advance into the void:
A cabin of logs, on a lilypad of golden light
Floats in the sea of the Ancestors, their august trunks
Shed snowdowned twigs for the Hearth—
Stones picked from the hillside, stacked high—
The fire is gentle, we warm our hands
And the light of the Ancestors spreads, makes shadows
On the walls, dispels the night’s cold darkness
There is warmth, and us, and home
you are the thousand facets of my soul
you paint me with all the colors of love
you are heart and pain
you are hope and despair
you are sweetness and passion
you are the red of the fire that burns me
you are the white of the light that reassures me
you are the whole thing
that wipes out my nothing
for yiou ... it's always for you, as you're my diamond in the rough