Across the abyssal plain,in waters weighted with the entire oceanand as utterly black as night can be,lit only by the thrashing sparking flaringof creatures bizarre by any notionof ourselves, the lubberly kind… Across these heavy deepsin measured tread of little feet crustacean,they march, determined in their questwith thoughts in mind, if there is any thinking,of …
Tag Archives: poem
THE MAGIC HOUR a sonnet of art and age
Stare not at the Sun, we’re oft reminded,But in the Magic Hour, as the Poets tellEyes can gaze and be not blinded–The day’s work’s done, for good or ill. The Farmer comes home from the field,The Baker from the baking;The Vintner casks the final yield,The Maker ceases making… The Magic Hour, the Artist cherishes–The Hour …
Loss
I thought you’d live forever, though I know it can’t be so–I’ve always known I’d lose you, though I thought you’d never go…There’d be time some perfect day to speak the long-unspoken word,To tell you all I needed to, to be sure that you had heard…That there’d be time to listen, to show how much …
Autumn Storm
The earth does what it doesand always has– Storm bellowing,Flood rushing,And the reeds bend;Trees sway and sometimesgo roots up;The waters wildsweep the landforgetting former bankserasing damsthe diligent beaver built. _____________________ The tempest swoops inoff the oceanwhere it trained,charging like a heavyweightout of his corner,Knocksthe ancient weather vanea-tizzy,sets the ponies running in the wind;Slapsthe last of …
THE STALKING
The thing I hunt,it lurks in every shadowthat ever consumed a human soul:In crevices and pits and fensit hides, and snarls softly–knows I’m here…I hear it breathing, very near, and I am ready–must be ready for it–when it rages upand out from pit and fen–to cast my spear, my spell–I mean to conquer and compel! …
Late October Morning
Morning has broken–its edges shattered by the wind;Dawnlight leaks through the torn hem of overcast;Tree boughs new-relieved of colorflutter and bounce and danceto the strains of winter musicof the coming of colder daysand slight rain considersriding down the windas snow. by CL Redding 10/22
Autumn Winds
Dancing on the windclinging to the boughs that were life in springand summer home… In autumn finery they show,parade and prance, let go at last and danceon air as if mortality is not a thing at all. by CL Redding 10/2022
In Praise of Patience
I was cold in the morning, shivering,but I knew the day would warmwith the rising sun. Hearts broken by humankind unkind, humanity inhumane,we bear the meanessof our worldsplodding on, plodding on… between the shadows castby obstacles half-seen,mistaken,misinformed,misunderstood–we go on seeking truth with our broken hearts. Beset by grief,taught guilt and shameand fear by all its names, even so we …
LAMENT
When the night goes dark, all glowing wild eyes dimmed and dead;When the forest goes silent of song and cry and roarand there is only the creakingof trees moved by the empty rush of wind;When flowers no longer humwith the dancing bee;When the sky is bleak of wingsthat glitter and crackleor suddenly rattle or softly …
Next Time…
Next time, I want a lifein more dimensions.Not just for- and backwards,Not bound so tight to time.I want to livenot only walking on the earthbut soaring, eagle-high,or flitting among leaves and boughs, or swiftly coursing distancesbetween the trees, the rooftops,the ledges of great canyons, coasting on warm rising airs… Or I will live more slowly,cruising …
LOOSELY SPEAKING... 