Dark time before the spring

Ellen Best has written a cleave poem on a subject close to my heart. You can read it here. She has prompted me to try to write another one.

The idea of a cleave is to write three poems in one. One half telling one story, the other telling its opposite, and the whole making the complete poem. The two halves ought to be separated physically on the page, but tell that to WP. You’ll have to pretend that the bolded part is on the other side of the page.

It’s something I haven’t done in a long time. Certainly not since the new editor makes formatting it impossible for anyone without a degree in computer technology.

Dark time before the spring

The dark time has come
though sun still pierces briefly autumn soft
and all the leaves are falling
the tree song is changing
no summer birds sing sweet from shady trees
flashing bright with fire-garb bright as laughter
the stream’s voice is loud
remembering spring torrents
where rain has swollen the cords and chords
and the rush of new life
of watervoice coursing to the sea
leaf-dance on meadows red now and wild
the wind has risen in the east, feather-ruffled, ragged-clawed
sweeping like swallows across the rain-damp green
and in the watchful hedge the wild things wait, sniffing
the tang of spring rising from deep roots
the dark night about to fall
gathering all in its eternal arms.