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Evergreen (SF, 2003)
Evergreen:
Never loses his leaves
Despite his great age;
Life yet in the old goat.
Time
Is the great healer
And the destroyer;
A double-edged sword.
Life
Is a burning flame,
The greatest gift,
And the most difficult of trials.
Death
Cannot exist without life
As witness and forebear;
The flame extinguished.
Love
Is ever green: born in passion,
Burns beyond loss,
And matures gracefully.
Grey
Give me red,
The colour of fire and passion.
Give me blue,
It’s cold and cruel, or pleasant like a summer sky.
Give me the green
Of envy, or the verdant forest.
Give me an orange,
Fruity and refreshing on a hot day.
Grey is the colour of suits, of conservatism.
Grey takes no chances, no sides.
Grey lacks the lie or truth:
It is neither black nor white.
Grey is the rainy, mucky day, whatever time of year.
Grey is vague and unclear, like dusk, without dawn’s glowing radiance.
Grey is non-committal:
It is neither night nor day.
There are shades of grey, which are no more satisfying –
No one ever colours love grey, or happiness;
There’s no such thing as a grey glow.
You can have your grey; I’ll keep my rainbow.
I’ll take a black cloud, with its light show, or the darkest night.
Whether right or wrong, at least it’s stimulating –
I’ll never turn down a good fight.
You can keep your grey; I’ve had enough of it, thanks.
Secrets
Wandering beneath the night sky’s furry carpet of stars, I ponder my “What ifs.” A tender touch long ago is remembered as if it happened today. What came next? Nothing but the awkward paralysis of the impossible. The consequences should have been inevitable, but were out of place. We shared a secret, unspoken, but understood, and never acted upon. Lovers in a past life, or destined for the next, two souls entwined for millennia meeting too soon, or too late - the result is the same: fate skips a beat.
We regret time lost, yet are certain that we will meet again, and maybe miss again, but some day, tomorrow, ten years, or ten centuries from now that pregnant touch will bear its offspring.
Siblings
Brother and sister from different parents – twins perhaps;
I knew the moment we first met.
We understood more about each other than lovers – instantly:
The secrets of siblings, knowing glances, intimate and platonic.
I felt protective like an older brother when you flew the nest.
He could never see you as I did, or know you as I do.
I will be there if he leaves, constant, a rock.
We will take each new day as it comes, together.
When I moved on, nothing changed.
It was as though we were still together.
We discussed our days in dreams, and laughed at each others mistakes.
Our friends kept us in contact, little knowing our nocturnal ritual.
I will forever remember those summer days –
The certainty of our friendship and our shared asides.
Though the years have passed and our conversations have become less frequent,
I will always cherish my twin sister.
The Gift of Gab
On that cold rainy day amidst the ruined abbey,
You spoke the prayer of the ancient ones; I’ll never forget.
You always know the right thing to say.
When I’m at my weakest, you are strong,
Calming me with your words softly spoken:
A wise head on those young shoulders.
Your own complaints are hidden
Behind that impish smile and your kind words.
You live for the well-being of others.
I can’t see the things that you do,
Easily dissecting meaning out of chaos.
Where it is dark for me, you see it shiny and bright.
I never know what to say, but I do and at great length,
Seeing the forest and missing the trees.
You see them, and know their names.
With the merest fraction of your empathy,
I could at least once say or do good for you.
My greatest joy would be to make you happy, too.
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