Last night coming home from our walk, Finbar moved on the alert to the front of the house instead of coming inside. He stopped to watch a hare and her two young ones beneath the veranda window. He made no move to disturb them and they seemed indifferent to our presence altogether.
This morning, the sun is shining but the Oracle’s shining message is tinged with darkness.
From this dark cup I sip,
my voice lost in the universal throb.
They said we would live forever,
always young and green as trees,
as fish in the ocean.
This heart of glass is not ice;
it needs perfumed mornings,
soft dancing clouds to breathe.
Our time is waking;
two stars with a life of fire,
for a day.
No lake water will run away with us
through forests to the sea,
no wind raw and cold as diamonds
drive a storm of rose petals
red and sweet as soaring music.
This bitter dream is shot heavy with rain
falling from a black sky
a night of no moon.