May Morning
Today started
with the soft snowfall of willow-down
drifting from the riverside trees
in the warm, bright morning air.
Today ended
sitting in the garden in the dark
watching the stars appear,
seeing the moon-milk on the honeysuckle leaves
and wishing someone would share it with me.
Between the start and the end
I have struggled,
looking for things to keep me active,
things to keep my mind from turning inward to the
hint of shadow that,
in some lights,
looks to be a gaping hole.
(c) A McN
Strange how, even surrounded by beauty and aware of blessing, the shadows can cast an unseasonable chill over the inner landscapes of the mind.
with the soft snowfall of willow-down
drifting from the riverside trees
in the warm, bright morning air.
Today ended
sitting in the garden in the dark
watching the stars appear,
seeing the moon-milk on the honeysuckle leaves
and wishing someone would share it with me.
Between the start and the end
I have struggled,
looking for things to keep me active,
things to keep my mind from turning inward to the
hint of shadow that,
in some lights,
looks to be a gaping hole.
(c) A McN
Strange how, even surrounded by beauty and aware of blessing, the shadows can cast an unseasonable chill over the inner landscapes of the mind.
posted by alistair mcnaught at 10:58 PM
1 Comments:
"things to keep my mind from turning inward to the
hint of shadow that,
in some lights,
looks to be a gaping hole."
So well put - summing up something that I am sure most have felt but couldn't have voiced.
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