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Showing posts from November, 2019

Encorcelled (Found poem sonnet)

Enchanted evenings and shifting signs,
full moon to new and cloud-shrouded stars,
primal night pulsing with passion, pain,
and the deadly silence of the hours.
Left are lingering leaf marsecence,
and their earthen decaying remnants.

Watercolor wash morning, loved one
lost, found, and secrets revealed, false starts,
surrender anger and uselessness,
radical changes wait in the dark.
Like earthenware shards, so grobian;
dark shadows beckon utopian.

Voices confuse, distract, searching for
reminder, happy memories of
distant past, fading fast, in the dark
defy, commit. Take a stand for love.
Take a stand for that which encorcells;
like in bird in your hand gently held.

© Christine Salkin Davis, 2019

Listen to the Sound of Rain

Listen to the sound of rain, gently falling.
Listen to the sound of breath, falling, rising.
Listen to remembering, gentle dreaming,
breath of life and ground of being, beating

heart and slowing down of time, timelessness.
Listen to your aching heart, its final press
of pain, its kiss of death, abyss
of time. Listen to time's time of fullness,

time to breathe the newly rained-on air,
fresh as spring but crisp and unaware
of the page's turn, the journey solitaire.
Listen to the sound of raindrops everywhere.

Listen to the gentle voices of the night.
Listen to the silence in the new moon light.


© Christine Salkin Davis, 2019


Samhain

The seasons can't decide and neither can I--
stay or go, forward or back,
do I shed my clothes and feel the sun on skin,
warmth enveloping like a summer embrace,
or do I bundle and cover,
layers against the first frost?

This season of light to dark
and Mercury retrograde,
feels like a push-pull in my heart
and the darkness descends too soon.

Ancestral longings, day of the dead,
arrivals and departures leave a trace
and a touch of sadness for the passing on.
Time is eternal
but there is never enough time to say
goodbye.

The full moon lights the path;
tribal foot prints carry you on.


© Christine Salkin Davis, 2019