Days Poem by Diana van den Berg

These pastel, tiptoe days
are a furtive, forest chalice,
for winter wistfulness

I want to carry them
with mountain grace
and reverent brushstrokes

I want to sing them
light
and murmur them
dark
and chatter them
posy colours

I want my children
to remember them
silver-soft
like a dance,
a firefly dance,
a sparkle-night moment
in tranquil forest awe,

remember them
in grey and gracious
arabesques

remember them
golden-warm
in sunbeam pathways
across the park
and the ocean
and to Heaven
and back
in golden circle smiles

(25 March 2006)