Don't look elsewhere:
      your best blueprint
      is within

We tend
to look forward
when it's better
to turn backward

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                  Their Candles are All Out


                            “…There’s husbandry in heaven;
                              Their candles are all out...”

                                              -Macbeth II.i.6-7


Good men will tend to see the good in all
When Banquo was aware of the starless night
He saw in that not a lack of light  
But rather the careful conservation of light

And so we see this night, this rainy night
Not as a time of cold and darkness and damp
But an occasion for hearth-gathering the family
For cards, chess, read-alouds, blankies, warmth, peace

Good men will tend to see the good in all
And good must then on all of us befall

at the end of the day,
with my illusions at bay,
when bound to obey
a truth so gray —
i travel the depths
with sondering footsteps,
to see if they help
or merely cast a vignette
of eclectic readings,
and years of heeding
the lives preceding;
still bleeding —
like a pair of lips,
torn at the tips
in sorrow’s grips;
hardly equipped —
to deal with ‘the self’
blowing dirt off bookshelves,
too dry to spell  
the thought of oneself.

Cānghǎi lǎoguī mù cǎilóng,
Bìbō shēn chù yǐng chóng chóng.
Suìyuè diāozhuó jiānyìng ké,
Qíng sī wàn lǚ rào xīnfú.
Dōngfēng fú liǔ chūnyì nóng,
Lóngnǚ yānrán xiàoyǔ zhōng.
Yuàn dé bì dì liánhuā gòng.


The Dragon Maiden and the Sea Turtle
The ancient turtle yearns for the vibrant dragon,
In deep blue waves, shadows throng.
Years have carved a hardened shell,
Yet countless love threads his heart compel.
East wind brushes willows, spring's joy thrives,
The dragon maiden smiles, her laughter survives.
May we together share twin lotus lives.

I took for granted everything,
colors of every hue.
I didn’t know those colors
filled my world because of you.
 
So, like the fool I am
I let you go, too blind to see
that on my own I am just alone
and things turned out to be
 
where colors slowly slipped away,
the yellows, greens and blues.
And now the only color left…
is the memory of you.

Beneath the stars, the world is calm and still,
A quiet breath that whispers through the night.
The moonlight casts a glow on every hill,
As dreams take flight beneath its silver light.

The winds, they speak in soft and gentle tones,
And dance with leaves that flutter through the air.
In sleep’s embrace, the weary heart atones,
To rest in peace, free from all earthly care.

The dawn will rise, but now the night is here,
A time for dreams to whisper soft and low.
With every breath, the dark is drawing near,
And all is calm, as stars begin to glow.

So close your eyes and let the world drift by,
For dreams are waiting where the shadows lie.