Monday, November 24, 2008

On The Eve Of Winter

In the


of day

Took time to

Talk to the


Fingers in

damp cool earth


Tiny shoots

and marvel

colors of small


Some green,

Some purple

All pulsing and

pushing toward

the Sky.

Sun shown shadow

shoulder sweep


glance at three

High Hawks


turning a wing.

Lawn mowers drone

in the scent of

Fresh cut lawns

Open windows lend

Air and light

Within and without.

Trees are green

( i talk to them too, in a manner of speaking.)

Walking joggers past me by

and smiled.

As I prayed and


in the

Light of Day.

One hand in the Earth


One hand in the


Ever care for the Roses and the people.

Each and every Light is unique and

has ever been and ever shall be of you.

For you are the Light of the World.

As ever be well, Saudade is more than a word.

Then it was spring,

Now it is early winter


all the leaves have fallen.

Some swirl in the winds

Scratch the windows

dance in a hiss on the streets

and recall the last rose.

As winds of the north

whisper in the pines

a warm soft dream

and memories.

There the dance

of stars and diamonds

are held holy

As Libetry and Dragon

eternal entwine

reflected in glass beads


tears. As ever be well, With love, Stephen Craig Rowe
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