The laughter of leaves,
whisper testament,
over cool caverns,
ancient moss,
the absurdity of clocks,
and rain upon rocks
while serpents dance,
backlit with sunglow,
at the speed of life,
daring us to defy,
this timeless tapestry,
in which we all grow,
Our voice of life’s longing.

Once, while sharing some wine,
On the tranquil banks of a silent lake,
I asked someone what romance was.
And they told me she was a lone woman,
in flowing gold robes,
smoking a joint upon still listless waters.
Dreaming amid her silver ropes of haze,
she was beautiful and lovely melancholy,
in the evening of a summer's fun folly,
all enveloped by the light of the moon.

Much later my admiring sigh,
travelled across the water
to her still waiting form,
and shattered her silence too soon.

So I stayed up all night,
to search for that moon,
the night sky's only living daughter.
Unaware that my affection,
was aimed only at a reflection,
that my romance had been lost,
in the water.

Too long tonight I've lingered here,
And though time itself be intimate,
The ticking of the clock, is not.
Unlock those dreams of fate.
Old rising sun, you must wait.

If I had made of my scrawny arm
A pillow for my boney head
I may have had a moment's time
To chase a summer's dream that fled,
What would the Sun have said?

If in this troubled world of mine
I must linger sleepless in the night,
My only friend shall be the moon,
Who paints my lids a sadness shone,
As the Sun now shines a brighter light.

Strange how I’ve accustomed
the word ‘Placidity’ to me.
After many years of casting aside
I now draw it on like a glove.
I arrange it like a ballcap.
I make my bed with it
And plump up its wishes
To lay my head upon
I used it to tame the creature in my closet
Encircling my bed with a moat of shame
I then tethered a wolf of fear
Quite near its darkened entrance.
There for life’s tutoring to creep past.
And now I sleep calmer
With a wide-open mind.
Strange how I’ve accustomed
the word ‘placidity’ to me.