Autumn comes in like a thief
loitering 'till the
Last Summer Wind
comes
Fall has begun
loading a full metal jacket
encased, guilded
in cupronickel & lead

eager to break the will of lively
verdant vistas down
returning their beautiful souls
and gentle spirits
back to hallowed ground
drifting, floating...
quoting, noting
poetic words
unheard
trying to veer, deviate for  
shared moments...
off without a sound.

Landing over paths
blowing into heaps
swept by wild winds
from  angelic wings
drying, dying
I hear them sighing

Hoping children
will jump in them
smelling the bittersweet of yesterday
raked and burned
they are returned

Sitting in gutters and streams
even in death they dream
in molting piles
all the while
these fading embers...
come September
again remember
they stay within us  
burning beauty
until ...
valuable things are given
life again...
come springtime.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

we are clumsy birds
and clumsy birds have to start flying early
as the Chinese saying says

we are on the ground
surrounded by leaves and predators
we went overturned out of the nest
nobody cares
but we will not stay here
we will fly higher and higher
and far, far away

we are clumsy birds
and we always fly at dawn
so that no one can see us falling
and if that happens
that they see we are giving our best

and the ground is getting farther
and the sky closer
and we can touch the clouds
and we will not return
because we are clumsy birds
and clumsy birds have to start flying early
as the Chinese saying says

you saw, brothers and sisters?
we are clumsy birds
and we are flying

I cry out loud in the darkness,
Alone, I call for her to save me from this dreadful night,
To hold me in her arms and stay there till I fall peacefully into sleep,

'Oh mother! Where are you?'

I can hear my conscience scream in pain,
Horrified of the demons hiding in the shadows of objects,
And the monsters under my bed,

'I need you mother.'

Like an infant I weep,
To be heard in the other room,
But for some reason i feel so distant and unheard,

'Please come and hold me in your arms where i feel secure.'

Not a word is heard,
And just like that the storm comes,
Haunting me more and as i call out in fear,

'Mother!'

I try reaching her,
My voice echoes back,
But still no one appears,

'.'

I say no more,
Just lay back on my bed petrified,
Suddenly remembering i am no more at home, I'm all grown up!

The night is coming
and the birds are flying,
they will sleep
and we will watch
at sunset
inside the lighthouse.

The nightingale will sing
when the moon comes
and then you will hear
a lullaby to sleep
and have beautiful dreams
all of them laughing.

The night is coming
and the birds are flying,
they will fall asleep
and at dawn
everyone will wake up
and then fly.

And we will wake up
after dreaming all night,
smiling for the birds,
these are rare moments,
at daybreak
full of euphoria.