The Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh, 1889, Museum of Modern Art, NYC
The Starry Night
It is silent tonight.
In the ever flowing
river of the night,
a boat of darkness
sails by
as wave upon wave
of stars flow,
then crest,
then
fall,
and silently subside,
consumed by another wave
until nothing is left,
just flickering light
of celestial glowworms
that hang
in the cave of night—
languid star strands
from the heavens.
The moon
could tell stories
if it chose.
It is silent tonight.
A plea for ending hatred:
This week the news was filled with the grand and rare beauty of the appearance of a Blood Moon eclipse and the absolute horror and non-sensical murder of Christian students in Kenya by Islamic fanatics. When, oh, when will the world stop hating?
“Early Thursday five shooters from the Somali-based al-Shabaab terrorist organization swept through a university in the Kenyan town of Garissa, shooting Christian students. They knew who to kill because they ordered students to recite an Islamic prayer. Those who could were spared. Those who could not were shot dead, about 147 so far. Police killed four of the terrorists and captured the fifth.” (from the Wall Street Journal)
Note: This beautiful photograph of the Blood Moon is not mine. I found it through a google search, but it’s exact origin is unknown. I thank the photographer whoever he or she is for creating such a beautiful capture of this event.
Frozen Moments (c) 2015 Harald Illsinger
FROZEN MOMENTS
It doesn’t matter that your words were shouted
In a peal of sparking anger, anger spewed
In moon-white flames tinged with flicks—
Sapphire blue and poppy red and yellow.
Burning so hot and fast, those thoughts
Consumed themselves and all
Nearby, including what remained
Of hope
For change…
Your change,
Your transformation.
And when the fire burned down,
All that was left were the ashes of your anger.
Small chars of memories…
Frozen moments of who you were…
Once—
Long Ago.
Unable to forgive—even yourself,
You are locked in the ice of stagnation,
The ice of inner struggle.
Frozen fire—
No thaw,
No shift,
No change.
No redemption.
Frozen
Moments
Forever.
Note: Many thanks as always to Harald Illsinger for the use of his exquisite photograph, Frozen Moments (c) 2015. His work always serves as such wonderful and unexpected inspiration.
(Photograph © 2014 by Harald Illsinger)
Frosted rosebud
caught in the night,
Awakening to the fog
of a December dawn.
This sweet pale rosebud
delicately iced over,
Thin slick of frost
lightly brushed on
As if an angel chose
to paint, capturing
The morning’s canvas
where season changes
To season, autumn
turning into winter,
Short days giving in
to long nights of silence
As your fragile calyx
gives you up to the day.
Many thanks to photographer Harald Illsinger for allowing me to use his beautiful photograph, ‘Frosty Morning,’ (c) 2014)
Grief, by Iosatel, The Obvious and Hidden blog, (c) 2014
1.
only the bereaved know
they needn’t speak in whispers,
grief is never
completely silenced
2.
rush of water
a broken branch drifts by
what will be left?
3.
Unending days of darkness
that never let you forget.
4.
Saturated, as if the clouds
had wrung themselves out
all at once, watching what
would then ensue
5.
sitting at the window
watching the rain
despondent days
of unexhausted sadness
trying to let go
6.
forgetting you
was never an option
7.
grief exhausts
but holds on,
rain continues
to fall
8.
thirty-five years and still I mourn you,
sometimes waking and imagining you there
9.
darkness deepens
into the black of night
lightning signals
thunder cracks,
but it is the loss of you
who took your life
that makes me ask
why it had to be
~~~
My Note of Thanks to the photographer, Iosatel, for his beautiful picture, Grief, which was first posted on his blog, The Obvious and the Hidden on 4/11/14. This photograph is copyrighted (c) 2014 by the artist himself.
A Poet in Time 