Edge of solitude

She found me there,

Waiting on the edge of solitude.

The little star, most beautiful of a thousand stars

Shining her light to guide my thoughts

In the direction of everywhere

But within.

She whispered of my dreams,

Some I had not recalled for a million years,

Where I had come from and who I had become,

Who I was yet to become.

All of those secrets hidden in a basket of linens

And yellow paged books in plastic,

Folded and tucked into the trunk of childhood

And the scent remained in each crease,

Memories light on the air like incense,

Tendrils rising higher to carry my mood into

The stars that sat idly by ignored,

Yet gaining intensity as I walked among them

And she smiled at me and laughed

Like a hundred crystal bells ringing

Heralding the morning of awakening,

Giving birth to the moment

I was born once more. 

We became one in the heavens

Before I fell gracefully back down,

And I came to rest on the delicate frond of a tall tree

And the ocean gathered close caressing the roots

That were planted so deep

And it is there I rest at night to sleep,

Amongst the flickering lights I wait

For her to find me waiting

To refresh the next memory lost,

To birth the next star seed.

The darkness within

The dark forest looms ahead

Ghostly greens lay like blankets hiding

Things that move unseen,

Spanish moss hangs cobweb-like

Draped like a funeral shroud,

The eyes watch silently high in trees

As crows caw brings it’s fear and mystery,

And the hawk screeches as it take flight

Grasping at the movement in the night.

A scurry here I do not know,

But see the open spaces waiting

Like a den or lair for the hunters snare,

I don’t go in

I do not dare.

There is evil here on this stretch of road,

Where muddy wallows lay empty and waiting

For gleaming eyes to rise from below

In swamps murky and covered with moss and slime

Something moves and the goosebumps rise,

The hound stays close and gazes in

At something foreign and sinister,

We move past quickly,

No time to waste

As the rustling comes closer

Perhaps were too late.

Just a little thought on the creepy spaces between yards down here where I imagine the monsters and slithery creatures tucked away waiting to jump out and scare….all in fun, the hounds are prepared.