-- LURE OF THE HORIZON --

John Herlihy

My mother bore an ancient wisdom,

That rose deep from within her soul.

How she knew of the earth’s kingdom,

And the revealing mysteries it often told.

In the spring, shadows grew heavier,

Morning shadows deep, pronounced.

The evening twilight lingers, weightier,

As nighttime’s shadows are announced.

“See a balance in dark and light,” she said.

All I could see was the darkness of night.

As I sat there quietly, the day simply bled,

Then soon enough, my day was out of sight.

“The horizon,” she said, “calls us beyond,

Takes us out of ourselves up and away.”

I sat with her on the porch near a pond,

As dreams rose over the horizon at play.

The horizon still beckons me from afar,

And beside me, my mother is still there.

Here we are, like fireflies locked in a jar,

Still reaching in hope as we sit and stare.

Her voice sounded soft in sharing a secret,

I held my heart aloft, knowing I will keep it.

I knew what she saw, to keep without cease,

In her heart lingering, longing, lasting peace.

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(c) John Herlihy 19 February 2019