“I adore you,”
the sky praised;
“We are one,”
the earth purred.
Between them,
he drifted —
untethered,
unclaimed —
a chronicle yet
to
u n f o l d.
— C.Birde, 1/20
The Slow Unfolding — An Image
Aftermath — A Poem
In
the aftermath,
when
lodestones
fail
and needles
spin
like dust and
pollen and
starlit turmoil –
adrift.
Forward,
onward,
back
obscured.
Turning,
turning –
’till fog and
uncertainty
surrender
to dawn’s
sigh
of clarity.
— C.Birde, 1/20
Margins — An Image
“Draw your lines
as you will —
between
here & there,
then & now.”
She spoke in
soothing,
timeless voice.
“I shall revolve,
evolve
— l o v e —
regardless.”
— C.Birde, 1/20
Overstatement — A Poem
Goosedown
lazy fall and
flutter
twirling
spiraling
earth-
ward
heedless of
phones’ sudden
synchronous
jarring
alarms.
Placid
flurry
passing
sooner
than ratcheted
pulses,
adrenaline
pumped.
Passing
sooner
than
over-
stated
“squall”.
— C.Birde, 1/20
Unearthed — A Dream
Grasp
the stem
(fibrous, silken, strong)
and pull
(gently, gently).
Liberate
those pale,
luminescent orbs
clustered
like an oyster’s
hoard of pearls,
like static will-o-wisps
and opaque full moons
in miniature
cast.
Prize them clear
(loose, out, up)
of the dark earth’s
grasp.
Shake them
(tinkling, ringing, chiming)
free of clinging soil
and lay them
(gently, gently)
within the cradle
of your palm
where they glow,
radiating as-yet
unhatched
light.
– C.Birde, 1/20
Duality — An Image
“The absence of strife”,
she mused —
light and dark
tangling
in her open hand —
“highlights the absence,
entire.”
— C.Birde, 12/19
Winter’s Eve — An Image
“You remembered…”
Her voice sang
between the crease
of light & dark,
of autumn and winter.
“When it would be easy
— so easy, too easy —
to forget,
you
remembered.”
— C.Birde, 12/19
Dog-o-Logue — An Ode
Stroke my ears
and speak to me
in praiseful tone
of my abundant
canine virtues,
And I will grin,
and wag,
and tilt my head
— just so —
in attendant
dog-o-logue.
— C.Birde, 12/19
Ice-O-Lation — A Dream
Don’t
look up.
Not here,
at the top of the world,
in this place
of isolation,
of endless night and
boundless snow,
in this roofless hut
of stone entirely open
to unbroken
night.
Don’t look up.
Bear no witness
to the floes of white ice
that define the sky’s
concave curve,
those bergs and glaciers
arranged
aloft
afloat
around that great,
enormous bolt
fastened above…
to…
what?
Hide your seeking,
searching,
perplexed,
bewildered eyes
behind your fingers’
weave.
And for heaven’s sake,
for logic’s sake,
don’t look
up.
— C.Birde, 12/19
Full — An Image
She let go
despair,
& the Moon
kissed her brow,
smoothed her hair,
filled her
entirely
with
l i g h t.
— C.Birde, 12/19