Longing — A Poem

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“Longing” — C.Birde, 6/18

 

With ladder, broom,

and twine,

we train —

the vines and I;

together climb

toward light,

extend and weave,

tendrils seeking,

inch by precious inch,

height and purchase,

something solid

on which to cling

in our abiding

search.

 

 

— C.Birde, 6/18

 

 

Scintillate — A Dream

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“Scintillation” — C.Birde, 3/18

 

Void.

Expanse.

Boundless field of dark – inky, plush, coal-black. Pressed against eyelids. Consuming vision.

Light pricks — winks and blinks and scintillates. Golden, glittering. A multiplicity of individual, shivering stars within and against the dark — entering breath and pores, veins and mind.

Carry it.

Upon waking, carry it from dream, out into the world. Feed it to every word, every thought and action. Let it bloom in outstretched hands, shape tongue’s speech, heart’s beat.

Then everything,

everything

will shift…

Change…

Heal…

 

— C.Birde, 3/18

 

Refract — An Image

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“Refraction” — C.Birde, 12/17

 

 

Reflect,

refract,

and shatter

yesterday’s

delusions,

the distractions

that delay progress

toward love entire.

Reflect,

refract,

and scatter

light and love,

boundless and

unfettered.

 

 

— C.Birde, 12/17

 

 

Saturation — An Image

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“Saturated Light” — C.Birde, 12/17

 

 

May we

invite Love to

saturate all we do;

to light our way when we stumble,

stray.

 

— C.Birde, 12/17

 

Sated — A Poem

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“Endure” — C.Birde, 12/17

 

Dark

chews,

gnaws,

swallows day,

minute by hour,

bit by

bit by

bite,

and, in so doing,

clears the path

for Winter,

marks a

return

to light.

 

— C.Birde, 12/17

 

Departure — Images

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“White Wood Aster” — C.Birde, 9/17

 

 

Decked

in white fringe,

gold tassels,

diagonals

of light,

late summer stirs

and

lingers,

reluctant to

depart.

 

— C.Birde, 9/17

 

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“Goldenrod” — C.Birde, 9/17

 

 

Eclipsed — A Poem

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“Eclipsed — Light Effect through Linden’s Leaves” — C.Birde, 8/17

 

Sly wink and glide,

she eludes

his fiery grasp,

and scatters

her Cheshire grin

in countless

bright crescents

to mark her passage.

No portents here.

Rather,

a coy,

lunar sway

as,

smoothly,

she slips before

his wide,

unblinking

eye.

— C.Birde, 8/17