Tuesday, April 13, 2010

The Heart of the Star










  
The  heart of the star
was as cold as the coldest
thing in the Universe . . .
and as she traveled through the farthest reaches
of her circles
she would watch for the blue planet
so near to that golden warmth and light - yet
so cooling and life giving,
full of ambiguities and reflections . . .
and a scent of hope . . .
countless times she traveled
from one end of darkness
to another
and all the points of light meant little
to her, nor did time have any defining . . .
but her blue planet sang to her
with a voice of pining and a resonance in depth
and a melody of longing, as its strength
would reach to cradle her,
to enfold her . . .
when time came and time again . . .
and there was a time . . . a moment
when she knew that she was captured
as she could feel the pull . . .
and the heat
build up within her heart . . .
her joy was without end . . . eternal
as the Universe,
as deep and as high as hope
and full of peace as she knew
that her long cold sojourn was over,
she skimmed and flirted along the edges

  gliding into the arms of her lover . . .

Deep in the night green forest
a doe stood over her sleeping child
and watched the starlit sky,
at peace with her world
for one moment of eternity . . .
the air was still and cool
and moist with the approach of the dew . . .
the earth a velvet black
and
along the verge of the somber treetops
and the sparkling sky
shot a light of glorious brightness,
reflected in the lustrous eyes of the doe . . .
she gazed in wonder
as the streak of light reached its zenith
and then exploded
in shapes of color
and sparks of silver light
a voice cried out a song in the night
a voice of crystal vibration and then was quiet . .

when all was still once more
a scent of lavender filled the air
and a gentle breeze moved through the boughs of fir
as they leaned in against each other . . .



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3 comments:

Van Syla said...

The miracle of the words!
Their creative power is such as nobody can remain insensible
to the magic universes they engender and which
touches us
in the dephts of our heart
because the beauty of
the evoked images
has a human resonance,
speaks of love and thus,
is universal.
I shall read and read again this poem eternally.
Sylviane

LittleFingers said...

Gee Barbara, the picture of the tree is impressing, strange and beautiful at the same time, as if the tree had waited for centuries to deliver a message, and that time left traces of its passage to tell us the life of this very tree.
Magnificent.

Thanks M^^W

Wolfsong said...

Thank you Sylviane for your beautiful poetic complement - that touched my heart!. . .

LittleFingers: I have been wandering around the city looking at trees and so astonished by the variety and beauty they present - I have been most curious about the unique twists and turns and bends that so many trees have . . . I have come to believe that they have a way more interesting life than we can presume . . . sometimes when I am in the woods, alone, I will turn suddenly - and I am sure that out of the corner of my eyes I have just witnessed a tree reaction, the movement of a trunk, the turning of a face, the jerk of a limb . . . these trees . . . well . .. very few would believe me. . .