Twilight

 

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art: ifeng.com

Each dawn brings
Sunday’s lament
for ancient times.
Released on twilight’s limbs,
it crawls slowly
through arched skies –
wafting the darkness –
until it settles to meet
my ankles.
Luckily, songbirds
hidden by the morning mist
accompany me
on my journey,
always before sadness
beclouds my intent.
Ahead of me on this long,
long road, hope waits
with its strange arms
open wide, outstretched,
and ready to cradle me,
to make me replete.

West Window

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When dusk falls,
its heavy heave presses –

the sun is no use to me –
we are both lost,

abandoned by an empty window
bereft of flame

where a tallow once touched,
now naked, fumes impatience

blown from within,
but I cannot give a time for my return –

when rain rises in an autumn
pool and the moon steals

the place of daylight,
together we can light the candle.

**Inspired by Sent North on a Rainy Night
Li Shangyin

To Dream in Autumn

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reaching into the night
outstretched arms inside
autumn’s rainfall
make peace within a lonely mind
whilst he still dreams
in a beautiful sleep
amid a lullaby’s pitter patter

gentle breaths extinguish
the oil lamp – disturbed fragrances
permeate the old wood
and ashes still warm
from his fire making way for dreams
and then sunlight where he would sit
for breakfast

his bowls is empty, and hollow hearts
sing in the distance as usual breezes
come to waft away the spirited
red leaves covering the steps
always cleared for him
to greet each new day; but today
a spent pot’s dying smells dissipate
into the cold air with him clutching
the rain as he leaves

my life as a piece of string

... from a silent space

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