Posts tagged ‘night’

09/06/2013

Night Birds Calling

 

In other times, on darker nights,

The ones who carved the stones would quake

At forest howls, at spirit streams,

At shadows flitting through the trees.

 

But us: we see the lights of planes,

We hear the distant hum of roads,

We search the nightjar – tick that box –

We walk straight lines of forest tracks.

 

Oblique we stand – their world breaks through –

There’s distance here that we can’t know.

We hear the birds, we sense the fear:

Religion, science, mean little here.

 

Our pride and indolence are new,

These creatures scream from something true.

 

 

03/05/2013

The Panther Man

 

The shadows curl their lips and kiss

My silent feet. They keep me safe.

In light I weigh, but here I float:

Adrift in myths and hidden fates.

 

From here I watch you fight for space.

I see the endless paths you take:

You circle, paw, and spiral down.

You know I’m here: within, beyond.

 

I ripple through your flitting mind,

Just hinting at the shape of words.

A fire as dark as Saturn’s heart,

A trick of whispers, mist and night.

 

I pad these forest tracks alone,

A shadow soft in shadow’s hold.

 

 

08/01/2013

Suburban Sylph of Crying Owls

 

The cry which stripped the street away,

Which left the ancient marsh to rise,

And claimed the gardens for the pine,

Lets loose the wolves and bears of old.

 

A scream the soul of night itself,

Which stretched the forest, coast to coast.

Inhuman land beneath the moon,

Unused to axe, to fear, to smoke.

 

And then up close: the clack of beak.

A yard or so: the scratching claws.

A foot and less: near silent whisps,

Of wings so soft they make no breath.

 

And last I hear the heart and pulse,

And feel nocturnal howlings rise.

 

 

17/11/2012

A Last Rose

 

The circling point of dark distils

Around a single opening flower.

Its petals touch the edge of night,

A fragile archway through the stars.

 

This moment in its simple pain:

A pointless mark, a questioned breath,

A finger tracing ‘round a rose,

Then pointing off towards the skies.

 

And in the mind the scent of springs:

From way before the start of time,

The buds unfurled before the words,

The roses bloomed before the end.

 

Around the hand the petals fall,

As memories lose their ties to Earth.

02/01/2012

Tawny Owl

 

You look into the forest’s depths,

The twists of branches, knots of fear,

Reflected panic of the dusk,

And through the tangle: night black eyes,

 

Or ember eyes, or mirror moons,

Or timeless worlds which pluck in dark

The twitching, writhing remnant lives,

Before the silent wings fold back.

 

And trees cloak round to hide the deaths,

To save the torment of the rest.

The forest floor forgets what’s passed,

And carries on with nothing lost.

 

Pressed tight against the oak tree’s trunk,

A night of killing hides in day.