I have finally succumbed to my poetic urges, and thus I present my poetry page. I will be keeping to a Nature theme for these poems, and I hope they inspire you to see the beauty in Nature as I do.

Gwas.

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The Sylph Inside

Cleaver of clouds, flitter of wings
Racer of blusters, a moving thing

You have no face, no form, no span
Here I stand earth-bound beneath you,
a man

How can I catch you, grasp, understand
how you scrape the heavens, skim sky
now then land?

Breathless against you, tugger of strings
Cool friends you cluster, a choir sings

But you have no heart, no head, no hands
And I am beneath you, wrapped up in flesh,
just a man

Who longs to fly with you
longs to, and can!

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Meeting Theodora

Cailleach the Crone is one of her names
But she asked me to call her Theodora.

Like a lone soul searching for a mate
I sought her out, and the explorer

In me gave no resistance, no blame.
She had something I needed and more.

Our conjunction was predictable, ornate,
Like a star moving through an aurora.

—

I asked her to teach me Nature’s ways
and she did so scarce batting an eye.

In a cowl she hid her deep-lined face
Where the ages had passed her and died.

When the Spring begins to lighten the days
I suspect she’ll reveal how she’s tried

To teach me before in previous lives
And how this is the one that has listened.
How I long for a glimpse of her occult eyes
Where the tears trace the lines as they glisten.

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Welcome In The Winter

Slow contrast, the deepening furrows of darkness

She weaves into my routine as she shifts

From time-delay warmth

To pendulous moth-cloud dullness.

The half-lid interim from wake to sleep.

…

A sneering sister of bright Spring.

For all her taunts she is the more constant

Her palette drained of gaudy greens

An inevitable rust to dust decay

Whose low-light seed she sheens with ice.

…

I welcome in the Winter.

She’ll come anyway, in spite.

She’ll come anyway, preserving light.

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