Your words are of wisdom, your song is the sky
Deep ultraviolet to the stars up high
Whilst the red fox roams in hills of old
and sunsets serenade the world in gold.
Green are the valleys, green and blue
sweeping to distant hills in a view
that encompasses near and far between
a world of wonder like I've never seen.
As mornings arise, in eve's silent sleep
to my trails and travails I most steadfastly keep
love lost, love lorn, love found, love received
I won't leave my heart, lest it leaves me bereaved.
All of this near, and far, far away,
I am sorry that I can no longer now stay
the road is calling, it is time to be gone,
all that is left will be memory's song.
Here, all things are always right by your side
here you are child, mother, ancient and bride
here you are young each every new day
here is your home, and here, you will stay.
For the year-rounder or day-tripper, a poetic foothold, verse of five metrical feet, and I have a toehold where I see the great blue heron at the frog pond. Memory's Song has other-century aspects and nature's everyday facets, (camouflage art) and there are but few on the trail with you and me Silvia, but the hermit...maiden, mother and crone...
A further collection of poems, many from years in the Middle East, but also the California San Francisco and Central Coast areas (Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, Berkeley, etc.).
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
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Richard Lloyd Cederberg
Helen
Sage