elo69 Poetry (189)

because sometimes
when the music catches the light
mixing with the rhythm of my thoughts
fitting all things into proper place
I am moved by the rightness of it all
and the magic will flow through my hands
as a natural product
of time and skill
beginning as if of their own accord
to carve lines
into the grains of the paper

it is that sense of total immersion
that elusive euphoria of harmonious neural firing
which has so enchanted the days and story of my life

she moves like the memory of love
softly though night on clouds above
and where her dancing feet might fall
rain spreads on earth a waters shawl
where muses of staccato tongue
speaking soft syllables before day has begun
can you see her moving gracefully beneath the stars
as we listen to the song in the rain

swallowtail spirals
paths through the breathing wind
only to land
with fan of golden wings
set to catch a distant sun
disciple of freedom
life is motion with grace
texture in every shade
woven to beauty's dress
by nimble minded dreamers

and how does the earth speak to you
do you know it by its seasons
the color of the sea
or gates of cloud and light
the creatures in their patterns
or the words within your heart
what is the worth of life
and how does one find it

butterfly Goddess
unleashing springs bodice
bringing bright flowers to the mountain
which roll to sea in fountain
and with a million little hands
turn the hourglass of sand
which setts the moon to dream
on fresh green stilts

Lady in the diamond sky
sliver of dreams set high
like shadows in words they fly
gentle doves of the minds eye

tangled willow and harp of spring
what unto a soul could bring
and there by sun and wing
breeze sets flowers to sing

for she was the color to every shade
of this temple in which we prayed
a place which no hand had made
where each will be solemnly laid

quiet crickets sleep
under wet Autumn leaves
summer forgotten

a gordian knot
of shadows by light been caught
and tangled in her hair
where stars alone ensnare
for the absence of are breath
was gravity

blossoms moon always come and gone to soon
leaving petals strewn by song of rain in tune
simple joys for which in life we prune
the flower of your days in each of a thousand ways
fore decisions are a maze branching from tree to rays
but within each heart lays the key to every phrase
and what today weighs may someday garnish praise
so many cuts within and every blossom formed
now only colors in the wash drying to a glaze

each confession falls on death ears
like water marks in stone
or the words which Luther left upon that door
sett by moving type
for history is a single brush painted by different hands
is it only the waves we see,or the idea which cast the stone
what of the clouds which had gathered
to give birth to the rain
but the Shepard of the moon does not weep
and my confessions were only water on stone

twas the moon of sorrows harp which plays the fiddle on her skin
twas the memory of Autumns taste blowing cool upon her brow
a kaleidoscope of shades to every leaf which from her dress will spin
rivers of color in painted sky framing pillars of lifted bough

and each will wave to the moon this last farewell of loves fire
leaving naked limbs hung artfully on smoothly bending torso

leaf of hearts
and loves the silver ribbon of the moon
wound like a river
through the story of my days
her face
but a waning sliver on the tide
reflecting a different side
of these dreams

a pebble
cast by no mortal hand

for rain has washed the stars
to a glitter of cold diamonds
enchanting little glades
between the mighty redwood brows
like old men they slumber
dreaming dreams of a thousand years
while the mist of mortal breath
coils into vacuum phantoms
driven by the release of heat