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Poem

The first lamp cut
through lonely
shade, where liquid
black is interlaid
With moon gold
chequered starlit
white, for even in
the dark is light,
The evening wore a
peaceful shroud,
where even whispers
were too loud
As shop signs
see-sawed in the
breeze, along the
lane a distant
sneeze
From someone
scuffling homeward
bound, their tip tap
rhythm on the ground

 Receding off so
gradually, like ebb
tides of a tired
sea,
Until a silence
crystalline , moon
silver meadows
dipped in green
Relaxing in the
picture show of
midnight’s star clad
ocean glow.


Harp strings play in
church yard grey,
hushed strains of
evening’s interplay
Between life’s
brightness and it’s
night, an intermezzo
of delight
That bids goodbye
then says hello, for
each room has a
different glow
So many nuances
between,
daguerreotypes of 
brown and green
So many images and
cells, so many
chiming church yard
bells
So much has been, so
much to come, and
yet too much it
seems for some
For each cloth cuts
so differently, some
just believe, some
need to see
That though each
room is rearranged,
the souls are
constant, and
unchanged.


Existence is to be
aware, so many
things for souls to
share
So many room, so
many doors, so many
far off waiting
shores
That linger in
life’s setting sun,
while other dreams
are being spun,
Not knowing is a
heavy load, the
gateway to our next
abode,
Yet all in all we’ll
take the hand that
learns us how to
understand
That this room is
material life, the
kind that cuts you
like a knife
Or greets you like a
friend’s sweet kiss,
these are the things
that we will miss
So much to learn, a
different shore
awaits us  in  the
room next door…

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