What we take from here
weighs light - a love song
for the places where
we eavesdropped on
the colloquies of Gaea,
Chronos, Zeus;
listened to the mountains'
mighty silences,
profound as peace,
when nothing seemed to move
except our hearts, our breath,
the bells. At other times,
the sea-wind harping
through gold foil
of thistle stems;
rain on tympani
of tortoise shells;
the major chords of storm
and sea, the clash
of deities, and then again
the xylophone of bells,
the lesser harmonies.
This night
before the voyage out
is not for sleeping, not for wine.
I step outside in moonlight,
take its glimmer
on my face and hair...
friends like stars - so distant;
the stars like friends - so near.
Leaving the Island
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103012900657
Свидетельство о публикации №103012900657
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