by Steve Tanham
I am crow, on summer’s breeze
Glimpsed in love with beating wings
Within the bright sun’s leaving.
➰
My feathers’ strong and hollow shafts
Are filled with air you breathe
And softly lit in our reflected passion.
➰
Remember this when dark and sodden bird
Looks out, short day’d from tree of Ash
Asking nothing of your walk of logs to fire.
➰
Raise then your shuttered gaze
And for a moment hold my own
Before you pass into your tree-flamed cave
➰
No-one sees behind the crow’s black looks
For writers do not live in winter trees
Freed here, in heights of soft blue union.
➰
Write it narrow now, before we both forget
As autumn winds engage our throats.
And winter’s ice, our memories.
➰
©Stephen Tanham 2020
Stephen Tanham is a Director of the Silent Eye School of Consciousness, a not-for-profit school of mystical living.
Email us at rivingtide@gmail.com
Perfectly lovely, Steve…
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Thank you, Ladies. Means a lot 😎
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That last stanza…just right. (k)
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Thank you, Kerfe 😎
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Lovely poem. The lines, “My feathers’ strong and hollow shafts Are filled with air you breathe”, are my favorite.
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Thank you, Geri. Lovely comment…
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