Monday, November 29, 2010

ascending moon

now is the time

as november’s dark descends

to learn to love the night

now is the time

to remember all that’s lost

and let it go

to trace the shapes of dreams in constellations

against the cold black sky

night bleeds slowly

into zen brush wash of day

an occasional flash of russet sinking

measure by measure into deepest umber

the edges of the dawn and evening

run together

blotting out all memory of golden light

and colour

trees newly unburdened of their leaves

stretch blushing toward the sun

not settled yet to nakedness

to pallid dormancy

till spring shall clothe them once again

in emerald finery

clouds layered in sheets of grey and shadowed mauve

illusions of swirling softness smothering;

the dance of death and sleep begins

one momentary ray of apricot november sunlight

limns the lengthening shadows

in antique gold, fading to silver

as the ascending moon opens up the door

to all the halls and rooms

and wildernesses to come