Washed Up (A Suite Of 7 Short Poems) Poem by Diana van den Berg

This is a suite of 7 short poems

LOST

Silence slips into moon shadows
and thought fish swim in shapeless circles
through forest coral
and the last firefly message is swallowed by black death
and emptiness pervades the darkness.


FORLORN

The storm lily lies broken and forgotten
and the bootprints lead away, away …….
and the wind calls
and the rain haze caresses my eyelids
and I lift my face
into the underside of the green river stone.

GONE

I look for you in my dark night trees,
I listen for your sleepy breathing next to me in the crickets’ song,
I reach for your warm arm embrace on your pillow in the frozen hours,
I hear your voice softly in my ear,
melodious and low
on the sunlit hill of long ago
or was it yesterday?
I touch your thoughts flowing through mine,
and the knife turns,
and I gasp and sit up,
but my legs won’t walk.

TALK

… the river has stopped flowing …
… there are bootprints on my mind …
… and the blue mists on the hills have spread.…
… and the castle walls block out the sun …
and the talk has died.

REQUIEM

I stand at my bedroom window
and gaze
into the secret life
of my night forest.
And my soul seeps deep
into the tree shapes dark,
and,
sadly and low,
I hear it
singing.

REGRET

I wanted to give you the promise of newborn light
pouring in delicate streams into our early morning forest.

I wanted to give you the kiss of sparkling day branches
filled with the celebration of bird song from the heart.

I wanted to give you the golden glow
of late afternoon leaves bathed in glory.

But most of all I wanted to give you the peace
of moonlit trees standing guard over your sleeping form.

THE UNKNOWN

Glimpses of hidden mysteries,
golden glow promised land,
lashing thunderstorms,
rush for a cave.
If you take my hand
we can face the wonder and the onslaught
together.

(10 - 20 February 2001)