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an old church spire
pierces the quiet morning.
Industrial smoke rises too.
I am watching actual reflections early.
The open sky has come to meet us,
here dawn is at 9.30am.
Your nights are long,
darkness fell at 3 in the afternoon yesterday,
A Friday.
Something has stilled the
blackened twigs of trees
this windless Saturday morning,
they do not swing like church bells,
the snow lies quietly melting.
The temperature is one above zero,
I hope it will rise higher tomorrow.
But the sky is open and,
seeing light clouds shot with orange
I feel warm in my heart,
this silence renews me,
gives me strength.
To mock the lack of movement
a white crow, has cut a cross,
and passed to meet sparrows in a V formation,
Their message in a morning
after firecracker outburst,
is difficult to footnote below.
They have come thrice as if to say,
soon you will see,
the victory rising on an your dawn.
I raise my cup and take a gulp,
The church spire now bathes in solace
in noon light high, it is three degrees.
I know we are near, one year has ended,
another has begun, with so much color.
someone had captured, white doves in their hands;
and now their beaks break free in speech.
A long journey, begins with a desire,
when the first step is taken, there is no turning back.
We all must be free to see change, unfolding slowly in a pod.
This moment is my gift, I will move it, so it wont wilt,
Until I put it to you in golden silt, and without a doubt you will see,
It was worth every risk. The sunsrises with a promise to rise again.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- An English Breeze by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Robert Burns: The Bonie Lad That’s Far Awa:
- The Neäme Letters by William Barnes
- Influence of Natural Objects by William Wordsworth
- Sonnet 111: O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide by William Shakespeare
- day_dream.html
- Lover’s Gifts XXXIX: There Is a Looker-On by Rabindranath Tagore
- Омар Хайям – Лик розы освежен дыханием весны
- My Last Poem by Rifat Ilgaz
- If You Only Knew by Robert Desnos
- Epigoni by Neil Outar
- Blank Joy by Rainer Maria Rilke
- With a Bouquet of Twelve Roses by Vachel Lindsay
- Robert Burns: To Gavin Hamilton, Esq., Mauchline,: Recommending a Boy.
- Sonnet 8: Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly? by William Shakespeare
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
