The Dream — A Poem

An abstract Rorshach-style photograph of whites and blues and fuchsias.
“The Dream” — C.Birde, 1/21

The dream was all —

beautiful

duet of soul and

psyche

sung in prismatic

tone and symbol

crooned and

understood until

I woke

it broke

The dream was all.

— C.Birde, 1/21

Just Desserts — A Dream

A close-up of a woman's lavender-violet hair.
“Violet” — C.Birde, 1/21

The gray remains

Ubiquitous

Unchallenged

Bleak winter sky,

drained of color,

extends its influence

Except…

Except for her —

Take my hand

See there, ahead?

Her once-dark-hair

now silvered violet?

Watch her cross

the intersection, see?

Pause here with me

The light,

so slow to change…!

Impatient, we cross

& follow where she leads

up streets unpeopled –

empty, too, of traffic –

her lead by swift steps

increasing until,

down an alleyway she slips

& vanishes completely.

But wait….

This shop unknown…

& there,

beyond plate glass see

her hair?

Sleek lavender strands

a-gleam through laden

wire shelves?

Shelves replete with sweets

of every kind

in Prismacolor hues –

cakes & cookies, pies,

macarons;

pink & green, fuchsia, blue.

Each sweet with care

displayed

& oh so beautiful.

Yes, of course

Take your time

Wander

Look before you choose.

But here,

this single slice of cake –

frosted white,

layers bright cerulean blue –

is mine.

— C.Birde, 1/21

Light — An Image

A mirrored image of a great Norway Spruce, with the sunrise glowing behind it.
“Sunrise Spruce” — C.Birde, 1/21

“You are Iight!”

Her voice sang

clear as a Winter’s night.

“Do not hide yourself

in darkness –

lend your spark

to others &,

together,

shine.”

— C.Birde, 1/21

Reservoir of Dark — An Image

A great body of water, bordered on either side by tree-lined hills, shrouded in misty darkness.
“Reservoir of Dark” — C.Birde, 1/21

“Sit with me

on Winter’s knee…”

Her fern-tipped

fingers brushed

my brow.

“Together,

we’ll bear witness

to Light’s rebirth,

& Hope’s.”

— C.Birde, 1/21

Winter Prayer — A Poem

Photography of a leafless, winter Norway Maple.
“Norway Maple in Winter” — C.Birde, 1/21

Peeled away

That tousled,

tumbled veil of leaves

A verdant memory left –

like a puff of breath –

clinging

to the form beneath

Imperfection,

rough beauty, &

strength laid bare

All manifestations

exposed

Revealed —

like prayer —

by the cold,

spare,

bone-bare,

honest touch

of Winter.

— C.Birde, 1/21

Worth — An Image

A photograph of green moss growing against a red brick.
“Moss” — C.Birde, 1/21

“You are

no less important

than the greatest

of mountains,”

she spoke in wind &

weather,

“& no more important

than the smallest

of mosses –

each,

a world all its own,

& a treasure.”

— C.Birde, 1/21

New Year, Old Friend — A Poem

A bare-branched Linden tree, brightly lit, against a clear-blue winter sky.
“Old Friend (Linden)” — C.Birde, 1/21

Keep at the chase,

the resplendent lights

and roar

of externalized joy

slipping –

annually,

perennially –

through grasping

fingers…

Or…

Make a friend of sorrow

Shake its hand,

learn its curves

and contours,

its bruise-blue depth

and hue

Feel its familiar weight

softly brushed

against the shoulders’

curl

There is no shame here,

in acquaintance

of this humble keeper

of memory –

only an open door

to self-knowing,

a lifetime

of understanding,

recognized.

— C.Birde, 1/21

Rest-Less — Dreams

The view looking down the central space of a set of metal staircases.
“Stairs” — C.Birde, 12/20

Dreams:

Of rushing–

headlong –

down flight after flight

of white, right-angled

staircases,

in hope of catching

& meeting

that bright elevator

when it completes

its descent;

Of accepting

the usher’s white rose

& following through

the auditorium’s dark,

near-empty aisles

to a seat farthest back

as the lecturer speaks

of death;

Of wading

in shoals of translucent

blue water,

waves lapping, pooling,

as I balance–

barefoot –

on the world’s knobbed,

ancient spine

while a dolphin swims

just out of reach.

Dreams

& dreams

& dreams.

Forming,

flowing one into

another.

Half-remembered.

Scattered.

Tattered.

Incomplete.

Dreams interrupted

& rest-less

sleep.

— C.Birde, 12/20

So(u)lstice — A Poem

An image of a pine-cone candle, lit and shedding beautiful light.
“So(u)lstice Flame” — C.Birde, 12/20

Longest, darkest night

Sun stopped, soul stretched,

wing-tipped in slow glide

toward Winter

Lips recite a thousand

half-recalled names of light

Hands clasp a telling dark

shot through with promise

& promise & promises

commingled in this slimmest

slip of slim hours.

— C.Birde, 12/20

Jam — A Dream

A Jar of Jam, set on a sunlit windowsill.
“Jam” — C.Birde, 12/20

With a look in her eye –

imperious, sly –

that suggested

I knew her meaning,

she asked for a taste

(“a taste, just a taste!”)

of my “Boyfriend Jam”,

not jelly.

But I –

bewildered, confused,

unable to grasp

what she implied –

could only stare,

slack-jawed,

standing there,

& in vain futility

wonder.

— C.Birde, 12/20