Pacing the cage is all a lonely bluebird knows

 image by : © JMG 2015

* Pacing the cage is all a lonely bluebird knows *

. . .

Tall fallen fences blew down in a rogue windstorm , 

Exposing  an  unheeded  nakedness  lay  bare

 The rusty hinged gate stood sentinel, locked unopened

 A bastille of invisible defenses shield an obscure black pearl

 While an ocean blue   surges deep within   a hidden seashell

 

  Home alone, a bluebird swings on barbwire perch in darkness

 Singing to the marooned silence ,.. stranded like unwept tears

 The  gilded cage door is wide open,     although

 Pacing the cage  is all   a lonely bluebird knows

  

 Deluded into thinking listless wings forsook ,

 Bide too frayed to mend,    not meant for flying anymore

 It's cruel for a bird in hand to watch blind eyes look away

 Even a moment's remission from the ache is not a cure

   harlon rivers ... December 1, 2017 ©

                                           image by: (C) CIGARO

The ache that shapes the silence

The ache that shapes the silence

Can't you see my walls are crumbling?

I hear the earth thunder beneath time-worn feet

I feel the cold wind blow through cracks in my heart

But no one notices the tears between the raindrops

 Hold on ―

If you love me don’t let go

Hold on ―  

I can't hold onto an empty space and be whole

There's an unmistakable cloud of breath

that drifts away unnoticed,

In the fog no one sees the distance in your eyes

Nor the hovering ache that shapes the reclusive silence

When all I ever wanted ― was just to come in from the cold

harlon rivers ... October ... 2017 ... ©

Last line is a lyric from:                                                                 

Come In From The Cold by Joni Mitchell © 1988, 1991;

 Crazy Crow Music

'Oh and all I ever wanted ― was just to come in from the cold'

Dry Wishbone in an Empty Bell Tower ...

Dry Wishbone in an Empty Bell Tower ...

The nakedness of winter lies upon

the tolling Sunday quietude

Shed  leaves perish into yesterday

and the dream of another

dawning  someday wanes

The sun ― lay low

the drudging  ashen  skyline  

Disrobed emerald moss scaffolds

draw much more distantness

to the pallid shadowed horizon

The evergreens step forth,

 roots grasping sacred heart ,

soil  and  rock

In the swelling aloneness

you can feel the grain

of  the  heartwood

rooted in your soul

There are no hard feelings

 but there's an enduring ache ,

like a tree with a rotting limb

languishing  within

its blackened bark sacrifice

It's not just the grinding time

 that slips away begrudgingly ;

more of the same takes a toll 

as if another unrung belfry hour

in an empty bell tower

 without a song rang out in vain ,

peeling  reflections
of reluctant hours  c r a w l  by

in the insensible lethargy

A so called holiday passes ―

its footprint ***bears down***

hard  and  deep

as if a paling winter rose

grieves its own passing

A dry wishbone unbroken

lay bare the poignant

 truth  it  holds ;

it takes two to make

this wish come true 

Written by :  Harlon Rivers
© 11. 26. 2017

Someone I Used to Know

A voice  gently  called  out

whispering from the rafters of silence,

the way the canyon walls softly echo

in a warm southern breeze

It seemed as if it were a dream

but eyes wondered wide open

Reaching out for the lingering

empty air that breathes my name

Touching the wafting emptiness

rippling through hollow void;

  to buoyantly catch sight of

an oasis in another distant realm

Swept away by a seething waterfall,

      the  heart  won’t  let  go ―

 Seized  by  the  calling  voice

 that spates the broken intone

        never  fathoming

              distantness

           was  so  far  away

   An  abiding  voice  hovers ―

  a paling  memory beholds a glow

     of someone I used to know

                  by heart

Written by:   h.a. rivers … November 19^th, 2017 … ©

When life’s a lot of thorns without a rose

When life’s a lot of thorns without a rose


The  longest  moment  Hangs
in slow motion in a dusty picture frame
Its brass tacks pin it down
Like cornerstones up on a Wall ―

Gathered memories lay bare ;
a frozen ache chiseled in stone

Love can build a bridge

Love can burn it down
to ashes
on some rocky shoal

Smoke on the water
seeping far down into the cold
deep waters flow .

Silence aches
frozen in the sum of an unspoken voice ―
a deeper understanding shapes
pleasure and denial

When life’s a lot of thorns
without a rose


written by: h.a. rivers © ... 4am ... 11/18/2017

Puppy's first snowflakes ... and me

Puppy's first snowflakes ... and me

Snowflakes are starring the frozen pond’s reflection
Juncos  slip,  slide  and  skate  away  
across a solacing winter wonderland
puffed  plumage shaking off the wintry  weight
as the snowbirds gather         
on the threshold of a beautiful  dream

She sits and stares out wistfully,
wild eyed as a young caged lioness          
    half frisky       ...       half uncertain 
... twice giddy with a wholly unknown joy, 
without a care in the world             
oh! what nascent little sparkly green eyes do tell

savoring the input ...     
from the newness of heightened senses
enthralled by Lilith’s magically woven
frozen  gossamer  spell     

And I’m overwhelmed 
by a swelling rogue feeling;
stirring an echoing void deep within
like being silently buried alive  
by an enrapturing impossible dream,
from arm's length,    
just a frozen step away  

Beheld in an unsatiated yearning
to teach of tasty snowflakes reincarnation
Frosty the Snowman is waiting patiently
and the forgotten inner-child's dreams,
memories of happy birth days past,..

feeling deeply                
grandma’s  softly spoken breath 
in my heart and on nape of neck:   
"its too cold outside for angels to fly!"

Wishes upon frozen stardust
to    blissfully   discover    
a playful  festive  enchantment;

an old soul and a shaggy puppy’s
spontaneous shimmer and glee  

Serendipitous snowflakes pile up 
like a blanketing befallen silence 
with  a  newly  begotten  peace

knowing intimately,        
if we are lost we are lost together

mesmerized                
by just being in the harmony of now

Puppy's first snowflakes ... and me,
and the leaves come falling down

...on this day I am the rescued and healing


"to start with the ending : is the best way to begin"

                     ~             ~             ~

... post script: 

the last time it snowed on my birthday i was 5 ..

.December 5th, 2016 © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved

the light inside the dark
the soft inside the hard
the love inside a grateful heart

being a protector of precious paws
is something to be―

"If it be thy will" to be remembered,
for others to know and understand ;
a deep love, love strong
that abides passionately within,
not the traces of misunderstood darkness 
that stain life in unplanned 
and incomprehensible ways;

life isn't always as we would choose,
yet if there were a choice,
I would still shamelessly choose 
... to do it all over again 

the circle of life, the passing of love, 
dusty puppy's first snowflakes ... and me
   will be ❤ ❤ ❤

 Link to: "September 26th , 2015 ... The final dawn"

& 

Hard to believe Lucky Dusty came from a death row facility 

❤ love can build a bridge ❤

a gentle passing footprint

A gentle passing footprint

❤   ❤   ❤

These giant trees shall reach up 

to kiss the sun thereafter

the lilacs' fragrance will steep 

the incoming spring-tide breeze

nesting songbirds won't notice 

the tears for the raindrops

forget-me-nots adorn 

a heart's truest pathway to peace

a gentle passing footprint 

shorn these sacred flowered meadows

dreamingly daring to imagine 

far beyond the wildwood sheaves

©  harlon rivers ... May 2017

Blackwater River

Blackwater River

Blackwater rise up from artesian fountains

Upsurge from the provenance of earthen soul

Mingle unto a river of willow’s bend and sway

Rooted in boulders                                                    

scattered  within  

                           milestones                            

                   and                  

                                                     riverbed cornerstones 
                           
                                                                                                 Gray

As though empowering sown seeds mightily strewn

With intent a higher law's freshet flows

For to stream from silence in a satiating tongue

Rolling currents thickly bestow

A  river  of  simple  truth lay  bare

A stream of random kindness betides,

Rivulets of unconditional love abounding

Rootstock birthplace coursing passage from whence

Unbounded rivers' silent reverie manifests

Rippling cadence immersing pulsing whispers

Unbounded rivers rushing deep and wide

Blossoming undercurrents gushing,

resounding,

rhythmic  ebb  and  flow

Verve undulating wholly alive

Genesis of soul marrow's enlightened shine ―

Wellsprings arise from bedrock of mother earth

A surmounting light leavens abidingly

From imploring water's flowing river song

To illuminate the beckoning pathway's bearings

divergent from thither and yon
            
Through  which  to  portage

A way to carry back home in psalm


© h.a. rivers ... November 4th, 2017

Notes:   The Blackwater River in the background,

 I once flew into for a week of fly fishing,

farther north in the British Columbia wilderness

Slip Slidin' Away

Slip Slidin' Away

when you start

feeling as if

just being you

is not enough ,..

when you see

the sunlight slipping away

sliding into the ocean

and the outbound tide

is pulling strong ,..

gravity pushes downward ―

you see it's weight 

pacing in lonely eyes, 

you feel it's burden 

bear down on

a wayfaring stranger 

wandering away alone ,..

wondering what went wrong 

stalled by a riverside

frozen in time ;

searching for peace 

along the meandering shoreline,

walking on slippery rocks

and fallen stars

the waterfall surrenders 

a river's silent lament ;

the storm gales' surge stirs

the urge for moving on

a broken heart knows

how fickle tides change

which way the wind blows ,..

which way the rain 

comes falling down ―

watershed moments

undulating

serpentine rivers,

unbridled terrain waters

veritably cascading beyond

blurred latitudes,

uninhibitedly drifting

in shapeless symmetry ―

a deep ocean rises

with the calling tide's 

murmur,

the shorebirds linger ;

hole up with the peace

of the unsullied sands 

at the sea stained

tide-mark ―

barnacles cling 

to the pulse 

of the tidal sway

where starfish hold on to

slippery rocks ,..

being enough 

to while away 

just a little bit longer ―

to simply let it all be

and wholly wash out 

in the water

waiting for the tide change,

to swallow whole 

the rivers stagnant flow,

immersing 

the stars in silence ―

in the unrestrained

rhythm and the sea ...

mazy rivers ...October 25, 2017

thank you for reading

just be you

no matter wherever you feel 

the earth move under your feet;

no matter which way

the wind blows ―

"Slip Slidin' Away": song title by Writer(s): Paul Simon 1977

https://youtu.be/U7PBjKzaQEw

#being #enough #enoughisenough #rivers #lament #slipslidinaway

Thimbleful of Love

Thimbleful of Love

.          Seized by the moment,
          the gravity of a memory
           lay closed the window
             to the outside world

               Eyelids surrender 
            in the breath of a sigh,
      to the silent pacing footsteps
unable to walk beyond their shadow 
       nor the footprints left behind,

      never needing to turn around 
               to look back to feel 
           the weight of every step
         across the old Arch Bridge
        spanning the river far below

             The cold wet sidewalk
         rumbles like the throbbing
              heartbeat still echoes 
                     resoundingly, 
           through the muted voices 
        of the past buried away alive

                 Halted footsteps
           become a blacker silence
                  at the precipice 
     of the Arch Bridge railing ties;
   revisited deeply with eyes closed 
         wide open so many times ― 
                 before  and  after
           that day long since past

   Reliving an old noir silent movie, 
       tarnished time and the river 
              coursing through it, 
       remain unable to wash away 
    the stains of that watermark tide

                 Standing   frozen
      as a weatherworn bridge tower,
  high above raging waters far below
 feeling a cold chill, empty as a pocket,
            perpetual teardrops flow
  filling an empty thimbleful with love

           A thimble seems so small;
               just a pitted silver cup 
            to shield a piercing pang,
              and yet  a welling  love 
             uncommonly  overflows ― 
        tossed over the bridge railing
             toward the river below 
       to see if hope really does float

            Seized by the moment,
          a random act of kindness
            and a thimbleful of love,..
                    lay open again 
            a pensive soul's window
                to the outside world ...


            © h.a. rivers ... 11/06/2017


Notes: nothing put away alive,
within, ever dies ―
it can reawaken like a dormant volcano,..
ruptured in the blink of an eye

I forgive it all...Tom Petty & Mudcrutch
https://youtu.be/jezqNxQ8mb0

From: Diary of the falling Dominoes ...

Page 7. "Destiny...A Merciful Surrender to the Weight of Gravity"

https://melancholyrivers.blogspot.com/p/this-piece-is-tribute-to-traumatic-life.html

#rivers

whispered words lost in a written world

Autumn spilled a loathe darkness 

drawn down the mountain slope
from the dark night's morose sky
Sleepless eyes pacing the empty sheets,
feeling the darkness, for sleep's
beguiling lock and rusty key


Sentient words do not sleep lightly
between the ink lines' recurring echoes
amassed deep in a soul's granary
eyes wide open hearing the darkness drone all night long
Reapings of the sowed seeds,
born of a richness of love ―
of simple giving without intention
Leavings lingering like accumulated dust
segued into thought beyond gathered words


The elements of recency
ebb and flow in elegies
of what comes and goes
The butter-fly effect of silent gravity,.. ripples ;
a low rumbling prevailing tide,
more sensate than touchable,
conjured in more ways
than a chaotic compass courses
in a world that spins madly on


A heart holds forth that which flows unfettered,
inner-tidal fractals spilling down
beneath the sleeve's confluence of soul and ink
Teardrops drawn into tributaries segued into rivers
swallowed by the salty flood tide of indifference
edifying chaos into an absolving blue ink sea


Waves lapping deserted shorelines unnoticed
Stifled words never asking the unanswered questions,
swept under the rug, like loose fragments
gradually worn away from rock,
whispered word detritus of an unfinished life ―


A vagabond river distributary
meandering away life minutiae,
purging liberatory waters
unabridged 'simple givings away'
born of an ever fugitive love,
whispered words lost in a written world



dammed ― rivers © ... October 18th, 2017

        When will I be changed...Josh Ritter 

                          (feat. Bob Weir)

                                 

          https://youtu.be/AEnh4hgiYT8

Adrift in the Prevailing Tide

Fallen Spirit Tree ...  photo by harlon rivers

  Adrift in the Prevailing Tide

Not knowing the unknown rooted source
writhing within the malignant torn of doubt,
is this still living or an evanescent dying adrift,
lost in the dark― incognito to the mirror's eyes?

Does a threadbare human body
even know how fragile hope beguiles?

A maelstrom deludes the unspoken fears
behind a silent flesh facade

Will the deep penetration of emancipation's scalpel
mystically reshape the receding tides coursing within?

It's too late for a fistful of frayed mercy
with the dead of winter growing in the marrow
of destiny's ever changing tides ―

Either the voice of love has grown hauntingly silent
or,.. I've just grown too numb to hear or feel it anymore;
at last discerning ... love was just a word we used to say

"I tried so hard and got so far 

but in the end it doesn't even matter."

Terminated hope, the timeworn prognosis,
the outcome of giving up still trying to let go 

Adrift in the prevailing tide―

Thank you for reading ... h. rivers © 2017

"I tried so hard and got so far 

but in the end it doesn't even matter." 

Chester Bennington. (2017)

Transformation

Transformation

There was a rogue wind come up like a sneaker wave
from a direction never known by other prevailing winds

A darkness that floods in to storm with a wholly rage
purging a deep sea of blackness and shadow

Incoming tide from deepest oceans black with light
suffusing the bright arising fountainhead upheaval
with a total metamorphosis  in the convergence

A sky of memory, a fiery light and sorrow
coalescing torrents into cleansing verses 

and worthy life ,  deluging the sands and broken hills
beyond   the   great   sodden   shoreline

Broken off pieces of sand washed sky diamonds
and stardust memories, flowing together
in  the  arising  seas ;

accumulations swim and swirl,
conjoining the lingering union 

left  behind  the  surge
in the tide-pool fusion

A starfish peacefully tarrying 

in the saline confluence let be ―

Hope’s sown seeds of heaven’s light

                           ✩

© Harlon Rivers... December 21. 2016

#meditation