What wakes from the dark

A collaborative poem with the Oracle, a puente.

 

Something is born when we wake out of the dark

into the cold grey light,

a stream that runs to the ocean,

bright as we want to make it, they say,

those same warm voices full of smiles that warn,

Don’t look back into the fire nor stare into the swaying branches,

just let the red rhythms of the night

flow into the slow green and blue,

 

~even though the window is broken~

 

and the wind blows cold,

learn to see the lies that shine too bright to be true.

Lead will not turn to gold through yearning,

life streams flow rough; the banks are high,

and time flies on relentless wings

always north into the wilds, but look,

even there in the clear brilliance of frozen air,

the stars.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

8 thoughts on “What wakes from the dark”

  1. You and Merril both share a lot of the essence of my message. Interesting that you referenced alchemy too. She always brings us out of ourselves into the larger picture. (K)

  2. I posted mine yesterday morning, and then a situation came up with my mom, and we had to go out before I could read anything. This is lovely, Jane. There is a similar message to mine.
    I will have to go read Kerfe’s now. I hadn’t thought of alchemy (the word) either. The Oracle knows though. . .

      1. Sorry–I didn’t mean to panic. Yes, she’s OK. But the aide who was supposed to be with her yesterday called out sick, so she was by herself. We were gone all day, and had plans with friends for that night. Fortunately, we got someone to check on her and get her breakfast before we arrived.
        And yes–of course. 🙂

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