Saturday, December 22, 2012

Viola tricolor


Dark the garden’s weeping wood
Bleeding its fading
Inside a votive and a word:
“It’s only raining,”

Raining words that fall
Too near the heart
Outside, Viola tricolor, a
World apart

A part of balm, of
Heartsease lulls old pain
Two parts of sprung-life waking
Wraiths entrain

Rain drops on Hollyhocks
      Traducing night
Wax drips from candlesticks
Translating light

A light, a word
A pausing into day
A parsing of the elements
An element of play

Plays on in music
Surging deep
Dark and sparkling
In time to keep

Keeping faith
Till break of day
Breaking bread
Come what may

  May becalm phantom pain
 Till ghosts embark
                      Breathing salt sea air again
 As skies turn dark

   Dark the garden’s sparkling wood
 Hiding its shading
   Inside time’s ticker wicks the word:
  “It’s finished raining,”

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