Fast falls the rain,
cold upon the summer of my expectations,
and yet, I do not feel it wet upon my skin,
it puts a damper on my aspirations,
the earth is dry, my sense of drowning lies within

Today is jade,
cloudy,
with a chance of tears

Those loving words,
the ones that burned my living lips,
have turned to ash upon my tongue,
clinker sharp and bitter cold,
now I see that you wanted to have,
but you didn’t want to hold

A tiny feather small and soft
makes little impact
when it floats aloft,
ten thousand feathers
make a bird
which sings out loud
and can be heard,
it’s hard to be a single feather
but we are strong
when we fly together

So falls the willow,
splits among the calling green
those fronds which clasped the years are flailing,
trailing soft, where once you fought against the stream.

Without you,
there would be no smoke to fill the empty heart with clouded joy,
no birds to sing and beat their wings to flame upon the fire
no melancholy note
which plays upon the heightened tightened string of deep desire,
no skies which fall and leave us chained
imprisoned on the altar stone, vaguest remnants of the fall,
we cannot know, we cannot tell
as the Master said when he was young
‘hey-** if love were all’

Grace of skies,
wind blown high,
fine figured, soft and fair
tease the wondrous yellow hair
of autumn