Evening Poem, May 6, 2018

The sky darkens

And the air grows light

It’s mid-spring and mid-evening

A star here and there in the long heavens

And the very last of the birdsongs

.

The blossoming dogwood

Is incandescent in the twilight

As if it has absorbed the light of day

And returns it now, as if alive

As if singing the myth of its origin

The wood of the cross?

The four-petaled flower

Bearing the stigmata?

.

And the whine of the night train

Sings to the motionless, silent stars

They are not jealous of its freedom

They see all, and live forever

.

Now the scent of lavender floats

Invisible hints of what you once imagined might be

What you think was irretrievably lost

.

It is cool enough for walking

And you wish it could last forever this way

You gliding into the deepening blue

Remembering and awakening to

One unimpeached hope

That every imperfect thing obstructs

copyright 2018

 

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