Thematic Poetry Previews (4)

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All poems © Marie Faverio

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*Nature and Landscapes*

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Whirring Wings

 

On this morning

filled with light and angst,

cobwebs of mist,

whirring wings,

chimneys still trailing smoke

in spite of the sun

high, high in the sky.

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Morning Sketch

 

Drinking in

the first rays of sun

when the Milky Way

has just paled,

no footprints yet in the sand,

paths full of petals.

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Evening Sketch

 

Lying on the fresh-cut grass

with loads of stars overhead –

how can I resist the urge

to write a poem?

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Click Click

 

A sparrow on a fence,

a blossom on a branch –

click click,

laughs the camera.

 

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Moon Eclipse

 

A red rose

in the night sky –

Dawn comes

and its petals fall

into the light –

moon eclipse.

 

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Waves

 

Waves wash away joy.

Waves wash away sorrow.

You sit there wet,

emotions dripping down your hair,

waiting to get dry

in the morning sun,

haunted by a strange                              

sense of peace.

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The Song of the Earth

 

A song in the heart –

not yours, not mine.

It’s the song of the earth,

and if you listen carefully

you’ll start singing

too.

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Rain

 

The rain smells of earth,

renewal, life.

Purify me, rain,

tell me the tale

I have forgotten,

show me the way.

 

I want to leave footprints

in the mud,

read your message

in the glittering leaves,

the stars of the forest.

 

I want to feel your touch

on my skin,

open my eyes wide open

after you kiss my eyelids,

cured of the curse

of everyday blindness.

 

You are my only hope,

rain.

Please give me a sign,

teach me,

 

love me.

Let’s be one

again.

 

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Wickedly Perfect

 

An immensely brown desert

under an immensely blue sky,

with scraps of life

or a lonely cry

here and there –

wickedly perfect place

to toy with insanity,

wickedly perfect place

to write a poem –

the paradise of nuts and outsiders.

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First Thing in the Morning

 

This morning

I walked out

into the garden

and saw a nameless flower

open up in slow motion

under the attentive eye

of the rising sun,

juggling with light.

 

It made my day.

 

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The Bud

 

A bud crying for life

on a withered bough,

stillness all around,

only that bud

tiptoeing into colours,

unnoticed by the hassled eye

hasting towards greyness,

but carefully culled by the light

bursting it open

among the throbbing notes

of a curious bird.

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Vista Everywhere

 

Morning chimes…

Waving my dancing sleeve

in the breeze,

I behold butterflies

delving into blossoms,

light pouring in unrestrained

on golden spores –

vista everywhere.

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Mirages and Solitary Cries

 

Ego-dissolving

red-shimmering immensity

studded with wonders,

throbbing with silence.

Back-of-beyond,

far from the frenzy

of a civilization

beguiling into ephemeral

phantoms of joy.

The perfection of creation

in its original status.

Sporadically,

a flash of audacious colours

in the sapphire sky,

the mirage of a rainbow,

a solitary cry echoing

in hurtling infinity.

Then silence again,

merely silence

soon dissolving

into nothingness-enchantment.

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Hallmark World

 

The chemical beats of the sun

forget themselves

in the boundless breath of morning,

yielding to the burnished metaphors

cherished by common people,

the fresh magic of the incipient day.

 

It is a kind of joy

mocking formulas and rites,

undusted ledgers on slate desks,

the joy of unsealed eyes

confronted with unparalleled

excellence,

a world hushed to inaudibility

in spite of soft beginnings,

still assuming intent and chance.

 

It is these paper-thin images

that breast the stern face

of the full-grown day

with its sharded rainbows,

spilling meaning

on the meaningless.

 

These images

straying out of dreams

are the prelude to hope,

cracking possibility

in spite of this and that.