poem – Page 8

Tree Words

within the forest
the old gods have their options
when the humans stray
the whispering trees within
weaving their words of silence

She. A concept.
She stands over yonder. So far away.

I. A mystery.
I sit waiting by sparrows. So close.

We. Our reality.
We stand and sit in different places.

crystal clear water
They long to see Lake Baikal
vast in her beauty
The goal was to hear the ice
and to feel and to hear peace

emotional clouds
heavy with the grey of now
hiding the sunset
issues faced on Sunday night
The dread falls within the rain

heavy falling snow
serious solemn faces
outside the old church
gentle, pushed into the hearse
transported to rest awhile

the falling droplets
they increase in their number
the windscreen a blur
neoclassical engine
sounds of heartbreak and the sea

I look at you
sometimes when you don’t notice

I stare at you
Rarely, when you are oblivious to my presence

I wonder if we, the two of us, would have spoken
if you were

famous when we met over 24 years ago

Around the bend, the pink lady shines;
a luminous ball rising in the late sky.

The clear pastel sunset and the lady,
constantly moving in and out of view.

They guide me back to the ones I love,
from a world full of money and ladders.