Harmonic (Poetry)
04th December 2011
Winner of the Decanto Poetry Competition 2011
I have walked with you
in the wilderness gardens of your heart
and heard your true voice —
like a rare bird singing
high and wild
in the topmost branches of a tree.
And I know that song —
its shivering cadence —
every note’s pure unexpurgated passion
tossed and strung
invisible across a spellbound sky —
even the breeze stops to listen.
The melody of self is ever-changing —
your overture long-done —
the seasons turn
your symphony’s evolving —
sorrow colours joy — a cloud
unsettles the horizon.
Even the storm has romance —
tension breaks — dissolves
into the long lash of rain —
all greenery subdued and crouched
where earth protects as best it can
and waits for calm.
As silence washes back
the hush gathers to itself
your lullaby — the ache that trills
the softest pain — rising — rising — rising —
you have become an orchestra and love soars —
sounds out the clearest note
you’ll ever sing.
I have walked with you
in the wilderness gardens of your heart
and heard your true voice —
like a rare bird singing
high and wild
in the topmost branches of a tree.
And I know that song —
its shivering cadence —
every note’s pure unexpurgated passion
tossed and strung
invisible across a spellbound sky —
even the breeze stops to listen.
The melody of self is ever-changing —
your overture long-done —
the seasons turn
your symphony’s evolving —
sorrow colours joy — a cloud
unsettles the horizon.
Even the storm has romance —
tension breaks — dissolves
into the long lash of rain —
all greenery subdued and crouched
where earth protects as best it can
and waits for calm.
As silence washes back
the hush gathers to itself
your lullaby — the ache that trills
the softest pain — rising — rising — rising —
you have become an orchestra and love soars —
sounds out the clearest note
you’ll ever sing.