• Ether: A Quartet


    I. Dawn

    A pale blush spreads
    across the ancient sky, a moan
    in soft, waking measures.
    Dreams chase each other
    into the mist, a rendezvous
    of quondam friends frolicking
    in the silence before the burst of song,
    the silence from whence I hear you sometimes.
    I breathe it in: an eternity in minutes.
    And then, the sky breaks, the sky
    breathes out, the sky is purged, awash
    in clean morning air, the refulgence
    of a world born anew.

    II. Day

    Lifted fog like breath, then slivers
    of ochre tangle in the trees, sunlight’s
    gilded tresses reticent
    on the branches. The hymns of the ether
    fly and flutter, and a calm like water
    overwhelms us
    to silence—munificent, sublime.
    Aloft, now. All shall be hence
    auguring, expectant work.
    And yet, we accede, with the chorus
    of trees and cloudless sky
    in crescendo, yes: It is a good day
    to be alive.

    III. Dusk

    The horizon appears
    in a blaze of crumpled brilliance,
    golden and shivering, while birds flee
    with a timorous cry, “Dying!
    Dying light!” This is how
    a day should expire:
    Fragrant with the cold breeze
    that buffets the sky.
    And the horizon slowly unravelling
    into undulating currents
    of pale, misted twilight.

    IV. Dark

    Flickering, the night rouses.
    A spark. Then clouds, blue-black,
    thunder by, and the darkened sky flows
    like swiftly moving waters to the sea
    of memory, of boundless time. The eye
    attunes itself to such movement, seeking
    light, and finding only the wake
    of a solitary star, adrift,a spark
    seeking harbour from the swiftly moving dark,
    relentlessly being tossed in its pull.Then
    voices like the cries of sea birds lull
    us to slumber, impenetrable, deep.
    Yet, it flickers still,a solitary spark,
    the wakened dark.


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