The curlew's cry.

The wind that stroked the snows of winter hills
And broke that fragile unity of tree and leaf
Comes now to shake the reeds in springbound thrill
And to soothe the sheep-cropped grass's icy grief.
The cloud that crossed the white-horsed Peatland firth
And cast its gentle shadow on the ground
Is dancing now, in grey and white rain-mirth,
And shedding tears that drive this earth around.
The wheel of time our passing turns once, and once again
And winter soon will give its place to spring;
The last dead leaves of autumn are clinging, ill-refrain,
To the temptress song that summer's wandering brings.
Hope is showing now its green and spearing leaves
The daffodil and crocus, and snowdrops, blanket-weave.

(c) 2ndwitch 26/02/17

Monochrome.

There are days when the longing for what once was
Overcomes the pleasure in what is now.
There are days when the times gone by sing their
Lament in your ears, and block the sound of the
Soft day breathing. There are days, there are days.
If you have never loved, or never lost, then you
Cannot know the same days.
You will know days, you will ignore days,
Some days you will cry with a pain that was born
When neolithic man walked this earth, and
Will find that pain unbearable, and so sharp,
And so cold and so hot, you will know those days.
Others will know other days, when the softing light
That filters through the silken grey of winter clouds
And caresses you with ethereal limbs, and strokes
The warmth into a chilled submission, and when the
Memories engage in a macabre dance of death,
Those days will seep into your heart, and sap
The hope from your very soul.
The days when the longing for what once was
Is so strong that you feel yourself bending and
Breaking, your roots are torn free from solid ground,
And you are tossed on a torrent of grief and regret
That crashes and roars and carries you unwilling
All the way down to the infinite sea.
There are days.

© 2ndwitch, 06/03/15

Written on reading.

There is a time, one time, that comes to all, and will not be denied,
A time when friends fade and family stand aside, and then, and
Only then, can the time be known; then it must be embraced.
For no-one can know the human soul, no-one can feel the wind of
Change that blows and howls through every thought, through the
Very heart of being. Yet, and yet. And yet.
The time will come. Know this, the time will come.
If you are not ready when the time comes, the time will
Still come, there is no defence, no delay.
There can be no denial, when time comes that day.

© 2ndwitch