Days

I understand the grief of clouds,

following a storm, following the rain

that they spend themselves within,

I know the hollowness of their hours

after their souls have gone to ground.

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Yesterday I was filled to the brim with you,

held barely by the dynamic tension of us,

bubbling over in moments of laughter,

rolling across the grass, through open windows

as we sped toward horizons that did not frighten us,

nor bind us, these were not our borders,

merely our next challenges.

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Yesterday our hold was full with the treasure of us,

glimmering in the darkness below the crafted facade,

glittering gemstone bright, golden warm, silver pure,

running through our clever fingers, after we had sacked life

for all of its bounty, then ran west, our main sails full,

our masthead lusty, carved of us, embraced,

carnal and heated, like faun and fae.

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Yesterday was holiday, holy day, celebration of mass,

spoken in tongues that only matched souls understand,

recited in the clear verse of green traffic lights, perfect tea,

subtle jokes, crow distractions, revelations of love, shared with smiles

giggles barely concealed behind gigantic blossoms, full

baudy, daring of late frost and virginal pink

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Today I woke vase empty, the ghosts of irises pressed

to my soul, but invisible in their great distance. Today rose

twin to yesterday but for the lack of magick right by my side,

and though I could sense it drifting whimsical over the world

casting shadows where miracles would birth themselves from dust,

I was not there, these bars unbent, these chains rusted and loud

hanging from my no longer eloquent fingers.

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Today is not yesterday, until tomorrow...

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Copyright 2012 Cutter Murdoch