and now, the firebird of fame
has lit upon my window sill;
it knows my secret heart & name
and bids me to enjoy my fill
of what life offers in its turn,
to never fear the fate of dust:
but the rebirth it’s promising
is not one that i trust.
the morning wakes in clearing skies,
but storms await the innocent;
the firebird is beautiful
and soothes the heart that’s torn and rent
but everywhere the glow remains
the shadow follows in its wake,
and some rebirth is merely pain
we go through for pain’s sake.
so now, the firebird has fled,
and dark and wet the morning seems:
and in my secret heart and head
remain these scarlet dreams
of everything that never was.
of what’s to come, i cannot know:
but still there’s ash upon my floor,
and languor
even so
Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.
Its love that lights the flame
that gathers up the feathers and the bones
And softly lays them out for morning’s
Dew to bring to life
Where are your poems? What has happened to your unedited posts? Have you made a deliberate decision? Are you posting privately? Or is something not quite right?? Are you OK?
Missing all those Lunes and 444’s,
Holly
Busy at work. Plus there’s like a hurricane coming.
good to know and true enough-thanks for taking the time to respond.
Just to remind you…
A man my age should better know:
But I do not. And so I go
About spare minutes spinning rhymes;
To jot them down, and post betimes.
I write: of heartache, and of loss;
Anomalies I come across;
The nonsense that infests my head
When first I’m getting out of bed;
Of love and aging; joy and woe;
Of how far, still, we have to go;
And many other things beside.
My interests are strange and wide.
What do I hope to do with this?
I hit sometimes, but often miss,
The targets that I’m aiming at:
But post in spite of all of that.
But all I really hope to gain?
To share my thoughts: the joy, the pain,
The emptiness I might go through,
In hopes that when you read it, too
You’ll nod your head, and say “I know”.
And recognize me, as you go,
As one like you, who does his best;
Who tries and sometimes fails the test
But still shows up – we’re all still here.
We speed along, we ride the curve,
And whether far away or near,
The game is ours, if we’ve
The nerve
Cheering with you. Don’t let the weather get you down!
🙂
Reblogged this on Blog Pad 2017.