Susurration Poems

Life and Everything in Between

Every moment we have, it’s not ours to idle away,
It’s not ours to cosy in slumber,
The night is not faceless,
And the day is not merely a superficial series of events.

We walk through a door leading to others connected in time,
Mystery intertwines with these connections,
We search for answers that plunge us deeper into the mystery’s wormhole,
Each piece leads to the next, but we’re yet to complete the puzzle.

Hope is the lamp that brightens our paths in the stygian night,
When the moon and stars are cocooned in layers of darkness,
When the susurration of the rivers plucks on the strings of melancholy,
And an oppressive heaviness obstructs the redemption light.

Every moment we have is ours to pursue our purpose,
Summon the elements to unveil the day’s splendour,
Uncover the treasures hidden in the night’s chamber,
Find guidance in the stillness of our souls,
Until we’re greyed and frayed by time.


May 7, 2025.

Feeling Fine in February

February is a love song 
composed on the mood of spring 
in the tempo of a Christmas waltz, 
modulating to estival embraces— 
recapitulating vernal feelings 
when autumn falls. 

February is a pulsing heartbeat, 
a twinkling eye, 
a bold susurration, 
here and gone in twenty-eight days— 
an interrupted cadence. 
The whole world would be stoned 
should Cupid's quivers march along. 

February is a bouquet of roses, 
a box of chocolates; 
goblets of a bubbly cherry wine, 
threads of scarlet satin suited for ballroom romances; 
two salmon swimming upstream undaunted 
to birth the next generation.

Susurration Shifts

susurration shifts
jet cumuli passerines~
starlings flight sculpture

In My Neighbourhood

Sighs of susurration sunder the silence ~
The neem tree swaying in the wind 
An old lady yapping like a non-stop chatterbox
The roar of the road hero's motorcycle revving past
And a radio playing romantic songs nearby
An occasional vendor selling village vegetables
The honking horn of the ice-cream man
Children running by after a busy school day
Household hens clucking to announce their presence
Crickets croon in crazy chorus
Then, there's the train whistling past thrice a day ~
Soulful sounds sweeten the symphony

Beach Bliss

"over the waters blue the night winds sigh, the breakers roar ... "  - Lord Byron

I met my love at twilight by the beach.
We strolled along – feet walking bare on sand.
We found a lovely spot and there we laid
our blanket down to sit and watch the sea.
The sky was beautiful – soft violet.
It melded with the sea, and we could hear
wind softly sighing too; my sweetheart leaned
in for a kiss; his kisses made me melt,
for he was like that sky of violet
whose magic touched the sea before the night
concealed its azure blue as darkness fell.

My lover’s breath upon my neck became
wind’s susurration whispering sweet bliss.
We moaned as breakers roared and crashed onto
the shore upon which I and my love moved
in rhythm to the waters swell. Once quelled,
in one another’s arms we lay, content.
As warm wind wafted over us, we too
were drifting with it into dreamy sleep.

Quiescent

The quiescent oaks shiver in the cold
Their fugacious leaves blown away in the breeze
February will you bring me closer to spring bold
If anyway possible would you please

Now the susurration of winter's wind
So different from sighing of the pines
How I long for angular sun's warmth, my friend
For time in the sun, how I have pined

There's pale gray wool flung across the sky 
A cold white shawl draped upon the lawn
Before the sun rises to warm by and by
When sun illuminates the crack of dawn

Chilled daffodils tender shoots peek through the earth
Seeking the sun's early light and warm touch
Once more to refresh the bulbs' life with mirth
Invite early insects to tickle its trumpet and such

Edge of Despair

When life becomes confusing,
my only saviour is my
simple musing.

Twilight shimmers in orange,
red clouds float above,
preparing for blood rain.

Lost to ponder,
I contemplate and wonder
why the symphonic sky
showcases shadows of ghosts

as a
susurration of sighs,
reflect sands of time,
like an unbalanced hourglass.

As words lose
innocent connotations
I find no use for speech.

I drift into my
silent reverie - 
but release through poetry.

Wild fires no longer rage,
rain perishes like a drought,
but the smell of ash remains

who knows what winds may come and go
and what they will bring and take.

Motionless mind agrees to a ceasefire,
with my apprehensive heart.

Cumulonimbus clouds clear,
sky is like a fresh sapphire page.

Simple sun shines - scintillating,
illuminating an enchanting rainbow.
Horizons reflect like stained glass windows.

Path clears before me,
as I bask in the brisk breeze.
Refreshing wise winds soothe,
as zephyrs heal tender wounds.

I see smoky mountains up ahead,
but I believe I can conquer them

as pain is no longer my companion.

Oh Lord, I Praise October Days

The bogs’ their fruit – the woodlands’ leaf
embrace a ripened red motif,
as cranberries and maples blaze
Oh Lord, I praise October days.

Where starling murmurations dance
a breathless susurration trance,
ballet in blackbird-shape-shift haze
Oh Lord, I praise October days.

And neath the cumulus, the breeze
colludes with stalks in raspy tease,
unfazed we ramble maize-field maze
Oh Lord, I praise October days.

As apple-cider-sunset spills
behind the bluish granite hills,
I’m grateful for my eyes to gaze
Oh Lord, I praise October days.

When rain does bead on pumpkin’s skin
his smiling face still lit within,
I pray myself be filled Your rays
Oh Lord, I praise October days.

Hearing

HEARING

Don’t come near me with that tune
You know it will make me cry again
With its sixths, elevenths, thirteenths
All conspiring to take over my brain
Expanding in my head like a balloon

Melody goes wherever it wants to go
That long held note, it does it for me
Leaving those complex chords behind
Holding on with pride to that top C
Together with that touch of tremolo

I also hear the bass line slowly move
An anchor for the notes all in flight
Like a susurration in the open skies
Where every single one does it right
As each has a point they must prove

My heart is lifted as the music swells
And images pervade my open mind
It is a sensation that I cannot control
As if special roles have been assigned
Across new worlds without parallels

Awaken, My Soul

Awaken, my soul, to the rhythm of love, 
Let the breeze kiss you with the song it plays, 
Hearken to its sighs of susurration, 
Let the flower of kindness bloom afresh, 
Shaken when you are, hold fast to firm faith, 
Let the music of hope enliven you, 
Darken not your thoughts with negative gloom, 
Let passion for goodness rule inside you, 
Broken trust, revive with forgiving mind, 
Let the whispers of the wind arouse you, 
Stricken with affection, be Nature's friend, 
Let the sun shine on you with rays of grace, 
Unspoken words cannot hurt you or heal, 
Let the feeling of peace wash over you, 
Quicken, my soul, to the sound of zephyr, 
Let it caress and cleanse you from within.

Sweet Quintain

Sweet Quintain, sing to me
of poetry and skies of azure blue;
of sea gulls flying free;
of dawn and morning’s dew
and sunshine as it falls with splendor on the sea.

Sweet Quintain, give to me a tune.
Let it be the song of birds
on a gentle day in June.
Let the melody have words
of a poet’s serenade to the golden moon.

Sweet Quintain, sing more serenades.
Sing with the wind’s soft susurration.
Be the breeze dancing through fields and glades.
Never let there be cessation
as water from mountains freshly cascades.

Sweet Quintain, sing in light of day
and serenade me too well past eventide.
Sing even when a cloudburst comes my way,
for beauties of nature everywhere reside.
Be rain or be a hurricane, but let your music stay.

Whispers of the Wind

Whispers of the wind mid swaying trees
Tell the story from so long ago
"The silent song of the sighing breeze"
Enthralls those who listen to its flow 

Muted murmurs cloaked in mystery
Pass between the zephyr and the woods
These two share a vibrant history
A connection that stands through all moods

An undulating tango felt here
A susurration of hidden tunes
This restless rustling declares it clear
There's a magic in these breathy croons


#1

Autumn Susurrus

a silken whisper
maple leaves susurration... 
autumn has arrived


Submitted for...
Autumn in Nature - Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
09/11/2022

Angelic Flight

creamsicle wings that glide, susurration
of light that pierces the dark -
duly sent from heaven’s crown

8/1/2022

The Healing Silence

The? ?healing? ?silence?

?Prompt from 
Mid-american Tragedy. Denise Levertov

The? ?breeze? ?supplants? ?my? ?noisy? ?thoughts? ?with? ?empty? ?susurration.? 
Softly? ?lapping? ?waves? ?mark? ?passing? ?time.? ?
My? ?seclusion? ?is? ?punctuated? ?by? ??t?he? ?cry? ?of? ?gulls.? 
?
I? ?lament? ?the? ?approach? ?of? ?an? ?animated? ?family?,
they? ?sound? ?the? ?death? ?knell? ?to? ?my? ?salty? ?silence.? ?
I? ?quietly? ?grieve.? ?

The? ?familial? ?explorers? ?depart? ?for? ?new? ?discoveries?. ?
I resume? my? ?isolation?,
and the healing silence.


11 March 2022

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