Day swells

How honeyed is the light
in this garden of life

no fingers crush the fragile buds
no blood drips from feather to petal.

The sea is a ripple of stalks
waving in unseen currents
where swallow-ships skim
on narrow wings.

This day was sung by the moon
coaxed by the sun
and cradled in the arms
of root-tangle
and the pulse of the earth.

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.

23 thoughts on “Day swells”

  1. It’s a very forgiving poem, and there don’t seem to be any hunters at the moment. Thank you for sharing, Jane! Enjoy a beautiful weekend! Without shooting at your site this must be the paradise. Michael xx

  2. I loved these lines:

    “no fingers crush the fragile buds
    no blood drips from feather to petal.”

    I just love how it flows and the imagery there is captivating. This entire poem is beautiful.

      1. I meant it would be winter in the southern hemisphere, but she’s obviously in tune with us. It’s actually really nice here today, and not too hot. 😀

      2. Oh, that’s really hot. That’s how it was here a week or so ago–and humid. I was happy we have a/c. It’s nice here–mid 70s now–but I’m sure that won’t last.

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