At the edge of the world, I lie sleeping.
No sound but the echo of the loon in the valley,
The steady drip of melting snow on river rock.
The mist of the morning kisses the tender petals
Of each crocus, golden yellow and royal purple omens
Reaching skyward, eager to memorialize each Death
We breathe when our minds meet across the glade.
In this moment of solitude my thoughts linger
On the beauty of our world and our place in it,
You and I -
The storm clouds drift and clear as they always do,
Refreshing and replenishing, bringing growth,
And we must drift and clear, refresh and grow
As surely as the rains will fall and linger on each leaf,
As the snow will melt, as the loon will call out.
The silence encloses my heart - velvet heaviness -
Won’t you come…come lie with me under the clouds,
At the edge of the world?
Dena L Moore
June 1, 2008
Thanks so much to everyone who has read (and will read) my works and left comments...I always appreciate it even when I do not have time as I wish to reply personally. Blessings!