Starlight

15-066

Rain weary air
gives way to fire laden breath,
a soul escaping the confines of flesh
and set free in exhalation of thought;
into night on rising tides
of fluttering light crowned in autumn hues
it flies, upward to drift in an ocean of wonder
bedecked with jewels of every color,
each the keeper of a dream,
or a wish, some now long forgotten
but out there still, held safe in silent prayers
now tended by we who dream now
and tomorrow–and in that hope,
in the essence of gossamer strands
that bind souls together is found
that thing, that simplest of things
that makes you and I one:
for if from stars we are born,
then stars we must be,
light enduring before and after
we were born to darkness–
but darkness knows not itself
without the light to shine upon it,
and souls, as dreams, are that
formless fire of creation,
eternal and unyielding.

Untitled

It is the end of summer
and thus the light dies;
it is the end of ever,
comes eternal night.

A rebellion of being
in a moment of faith,
a question of answers
and creator replaced;
the worry of breathing
when the air is this cold,
when silence of chaos
and its order unfolds.

The death of a dream
that was ever unborn,
and I in my doing
exist but to mourn.

Crossing the Abyss

Dark paths I tread carelessly
beneath a shroud of falling skies,
a wanderer a world away
from where I have been
and where I am going.
There was light, once,
to guide me, to show the path
that led to the sea–
that vast expanse of the Abyss
where a man, such as I,
could be lost and forget
and forgotten be free,
cradled in the arms of Oblivion,
owing and owed to no one;
but the light, faltering,
betrayed its weakness,
for it is not eternal in its being,
and once upon the shores of Night,
all that can be seen is
Nothing.

Sonnet IV

And soft is the light that fading warms us
in twilight’s glow as gentle night enfolds;
the storm now passed has offered solace thus,
and in its wake are moments we still hold.
In whispered verse we free the aching soul,
allow the spirit on the breath to fly,
and loose the heart from its now tragic role
to seek adventure in wilder skies.
But for the night no dawn would we espy,
or hold as such a gift those precious rays
that burn away our deepest pain with light
and grant us hope of love and renewed faith.
In fading light, take comfort in the dark,
for morning soon will see life again spark.
 
 

Another attempt at the sonnet, using Spencerian rhyme scheme; written with thoughts of a hurting friend in mind.