Bitter-Sweet The Gift (Ottava Rima)
At times the sting of death comes much too soon
and leaves within its wake a painful choice,
through the veil of mourning’s black, a des’prate tune
from those in need of gifts without invoice.
To freely give this dower opportune
is miracle indeed and we rejoice.
To donate life- a precious bond is made;
a hope of blessings full so grief is swayed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An Infinite When (Freeverse)
When was it the world dried out
and I didn’t notice it crack
under my feet?
green melodies faded
into dark trees
on my knees, numb
reaching out to yesterday’s ghosts
finding only stiff sticks
dehydrated bones, abandoned
and prostrate, I died.
leaving essence in the circling,
carrion snatchers eat life
and thrive on despair
sinking into never
dust echoed, shimmered-
a mirage of hope
that drew my heart
without a home
a thirst-swelled tongue
mumbled your name,
wind whisked my final cry
to the sky
where ears of angels wait
but unheard, my cry fell
and snagged
on your bruised branch
where breath rushed in-
flood of a saving spring
I clung, admiring
the green buds offered,
unfettered, unafraid
and became lichen
though you pushed me to grow
I dared not in hostile earth
and I cried
for death is painful
and necessary
you hummed a humble tune
to my soul
and brought the rain-
precious drops of rebirth
awakening new shoots
in desolate plots
I learned your song-
notes dancing on a new staff
setting music free to ring.
When was it the grass
turned carpet on the land
and flourished through my hand?
Never mind,
I rejoice in the rain.
Silver trophy winner
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