Metamorphosis

December 7, 2018

It used to be that
I’d most keenly
Feel the stroke of
Inspiration among
Summer’s rays.

Now, it seems,
My tastes have changed.
I’ve traded the sweeter
Juice of solstice berries
For the communion wine
Of autumn’s bluster.

Sacred and bitter
And coppery as blood,
I embrace the dimming
Sunset and look
Forward to night.

For all my misgivings,
A change is all I need.

MSBQ

Springtide Hymn

May 31, 2016

Few places are stranger
Than a graveyard in spring.
Both forces of nature are
At hand, marching onward,
Decay and growth entangled.

(Someone once told me
Cemeteries always have
The greenest grass, simply
From their unique fertilizer.)

True, it can be unsettling,
How beneath boughs of
Aspen and hemlock wreaths
Lie fallen soldiers and wives
Buried too young, taken by
Gods older than the soil itself.

Though death resides below,
Above ground, life blossoms.

MSBQ