Winding River -- The Muse Mongers Motel Poetry Archives

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Subject: Winding River

Author:
andy

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Date Posted: 22:11:38 01/14/08 Mon

Winding River

Death, being more than I have done
though I have tasted it upon my lips
I've seen its shadows dancing on the knolls
first in the lions den
of my screaming youth
later in the dark winds
of a New Hampshire winter
then in the eyes of Mother
taking her last breath

It is bitter to go,
to leave this life unattended
when gravity rules the blood,
the cold so fast in coming
the termination of a life,
a final expression of a face,
once so changing,
always incomplete now frozen

I have seen death,
beyond the meadow
in the striking beauty
of a summer night,
on the roadside beside
a crinkled mass of metal
dressed in flashing lights

I am awed at the contrast,
the living to the dead
leading to thoughts
of wasted time
regrets and frail aquittals,
that hinder the gifts
of days when death
is not upon me
when the living
is the purpose,
when the moon
tides the rolling sea
leaving remnants of shell fish
as evidence that time
is of a precious nature
I breathe deep, sigh,
and walk away

I hope for dancing angels,
the circle of my God
that he surrounds me
when my wings are clipped
for now I chase this river,
winding down through
these gifted years
stumbling on my efforts,
my heart bleeding
heading towards the great gulf
when I will fall into the memories
of those I knew or touched
enough to have affected them
in some uncertain way

I pet the grainy soil
then gaze into the winter sun
as my breath hangs in the air
dancing on the heavy breeze
until it dissipates then melds itself
into the all of everything
that shall forever be immortal
as I praise a single moment
having seen death enough to know
I am blessed to be alive

TODAY!

ajs

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