Come, Hold Me

Come, hold me,
for the world is so mingle mixed,
so contrastingly, proportionally fixed-
pain flooded, beauty buoyant,
achingly sad, fleetingly joyous,
poignantly littered, pathos strewn,
touchingly tender, savagely hewn-
for under this blue, beauty-laden sky
we laugh, labour, mourn and sigh,
seek answers to an unknowable why,
see much to make the tender heart cry-
so hold me. Make all seem bright.
Tenderly grant me your sweet respite.
Bathe me in your wonder and light.
Momentarily wash away the night.

The Gossamer Heft

Love is the chart for this twisting track:
the weight we carry upon our back,
a burden and a source of pain,
a leaden load within our pack.
Love is buoyant lightness and gain:
a zephyr touch, eyes that adore,
a torch to guide through darkest night,
feather wings to rise, glide and soar,
the gossamer heft of transforming light.

I Hear the Music

When these limbs were strong,
when ears were young and clear,
when each day was unblinkingly bright,
much grand music I could not hear.

Now they hear a vast symphony
from stars traversing the night,
and these declining ears hear "alleluia"
from vast pinpricks of cosmic light.

They hear it too from a drop of dew,
hear it from the falling rain,
hear it swell and hear it fade,
hear those motifs return again.

They hear it from a falling leaf,
hear it from the forest floor.
from soaring tree and fallen log
sound melodies that I adore.

They hear it too in baby's cry,
from rosy cheeks and shining hair,
hear from love's deep bond and union
songs with harmonies bright and fair.

They hear this beautiful, symphonic world
filled with the magic of sound.
Hear it swell, rise, crescendo, fall,
echo, harmonise and resound.

They hear it too within my chest,
they hear it from each tiny cell,
hear in the twisted helix of DNA
a great song rise and swell

and though these limbs no longer spring
these fading ears hear the throng
and raising my voice I cry aloud
"I hear the music! I sing the song!"