At the end of never

At the end of never there is music
of the moon
playing in the shadows of rain and storm
in the tongue of sweet summer and winter whisper.

At the end of never light slips
fast as starfire
pure as the pink-petaled rose reflected in still water.

At the end there must be blue
and the spring rising of swallows’ wings
where dragonflied lakes glitter with the soaring sun.

And at the end of never is sleep
dreams perhaps of forest green
and moons slipping fast as starfire
into the cupped pink petals of a rose.

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.

27 thoughts on “At the end of never”

  1. Beautiful! I agree with Beth and Ingrid, it is a calming and comforting image.
    The Oracle is in a dreamy moon mood today. 😀 Lots of the same words today.

    1. Thank you 🙂 It was a very upset night. I think she knew I needed a dose of calm. The ‘beast’ that wanders about in the night was crashing around the bedroom. Husband said it brushed passed him in the corridor when he went for a pee (after I’d woken him screaming—it was under the bed).

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