PORCH LIGHT (keep with care)

A yellow light in a bluer night
Holding the home inside:
A signal out that all are in-
Save one who, journeying, tried
To beat the sun in its setting down,
    -To cross the countryside.

In rising stars and falling dew,
Through places now darkened by night,
He steps a quickened pace for home
To see a splinter of light
And those he knows who, waiting there,
Have kept it yellow and bright.

The hour is late and, locked, the gate
On its hinges of steel on stone.
Young faces out see young faces in
As they watch for someone well-known
To appear in the light kept on in the blue
    -To bring the traveler home.

THIRD ROW: BALCONY

Tune, rare hope to each of life’s swift chords,
     Played softly in wind,
     Played surely in stars.

Lift, life chord, the staying thought:
     The discordant sound of lives
      In time against the movement’s theme.

Surround the light humiliation of despair-borne
     Love returned unlisted, unknown.
     Surround the players lost in music not their own.

Overshadow, orchestra. In keep step, bring
    Up the notes and pulse of straight-lined songs.

Deliver now the chords of peace, alone:
    Played well,
    Heard long.

Seldom Guest

This glowing orb, securely set
Within the heavens, shining. Yet,

From distances beyond the deep,
Like Frost, with promises to keep,

A body comes to veil its ray,
Deception spread: a shorter day,

To cast in doubt the afternoon,
In twilight set the night too soon.

I will attend this awesome sight,
In silent awe, belie my plight:

As shadow leaves out into sea,
The curtain falls on these for me.

Because of years, my reckoned past,
This dance of light could be my last.

With rythyms clear the universe
Confirms the sentence, Eden’s curse.

The clock of heaven, steady, runs.
We count its step in setting suns.

Promises kept. 

Solo songs celebrating the demise of the long, Dark Silence.

Fog-white greetings laughing through the fading threats of thinning ice.

Sunrises lingering now to revel and rejoice, 

Renew and restore,

Summoning the stories archived and buried carefully for future readings:

        Delivery on promises vowed at the slow closing of Autumn’s eyes.

        Spring: “It is time.”

Twilight wind.

Winter speaks to the haunting side of man
And knows the things that draw him up to fire:

   The brown and gray of sunless days, 
   The snow that snows, and snows and stays,
   The thousand, different, lonely ways 
   Its twilight wind can whisper. 

And those around these places bright with light
Renew themselves in mind and spirit, deep:

   With limb and sap (the snapping blaze),
   To mock the snow that snows and stays, 
   And count a thousand, different, lonely ways 
   The twilight wind can whisper. 

Winter speaks to the haunting side of man 
And knows these things.