Sentimental Moonlit Sounds

... it has been said that time heals all wounds ... seasons change ... the more things change, the more they stay the same ..." I love you but I'm not in love with you " ... there is a " cliche  du jour " for every occasion ...

Well here is a new one...well spun in a different way ..." we did the things that we learned we shouldn't do again ~ what wasn't learned from mistakes, we will make them " ...

I watched as you disappeared following the infinite rails, headed for unknown final destinations, far beyond the distant horizon…

The Great Horned Owls hoot willfully for hours

breaking the silence of a cloudy and humid summer night.  

The windows to the outside world are wide open

allowing the sweetness of the firs and pines fragrance 

to permeate the stale bedroom air. 

The conversation between the owls

sounds like a long distance phone call

in which time pauses between 

the short awkward sentences.

  

One sounds as if she was in the next room.

As their unique majestic chatter

echoes off the giant trees,

as the other yearns to be near

from a country mile away.

He answers her questions willingly

from the stillness on other side of the draw;

up the treed hill overlooking the rippling brook

where it enters the cool spring water

trickling over the mossy  rock dammed pond .

From the north, beyond the crest of the hill,

a new sound is heard in the night’s darkness

hushing the flirtatious owls lullaby.

It is the sound of the distant trains, down in the valley,

speeding though the night on the infinite rails.

  

Once again from this vantage point, 

I count crossing horn blasts like sheep 

First whistles are barely heard from great distance

evolving into an undeniable ending to the peaceful solitude.

A dream ruining, eyes wide open, ruminating noise.

Finally  fading into the night air restoring silence

after 28 horn blasts warning all creatures and mankind

that the train from somewhere passed in the night.

Crossing crossroads through great physical and  cultural distances

traveling under the cover of night to nameless destinations. 

The Great Horned Owls were silenced

by a thick aura hovering in the atmosphere, 

a stillness filled with heavy nighttime air.

Weighed down by poignant sentimental emotion,

the silence of ardent reverie replaced their

eerie calling with a heavy thick haze

you could cut with a knife.

I reminisced quietly in my mind

over that exact sound scenario’s feeling of déjà vu,

knowing I've been here before through many seasons past... 

Remembering our time together... 

As you lie next to me

with only a musky cotton sheet

partially covering your sleeping beauty.

Listening to the silence

broken by the wonders of nature.

I watched you countless times;

content to be in the moment

as I enjoyed the melody of your sensual

exhaled breath as you slept.

Willingly, I silently counted 

owls and trains... contemplating

the loss of this fading moment

mindful time waits for no one

while watching your peaceful slumber

knowing one day soon you would vanish to be free.

I watched as the red sky dawned

as you boarded that train.

Abandoned and left behind 

with the burden of these roots 

grounded in the bed rock of my history ;

I gazed hopelessly blinded by the rising sun, 

as you disappeared following the infinite rails, 

headed for unknown final destinations, 

far beyond the distant horizon …

© 2011, 2012, 2013 ... Harlon Rivers 

Black and White Delights

... Black and White memories of the road taken …

~ The father of the girl from the North Country Fair ~

Black and White Delights

Found inside the old  Scottish steamer trunk
from the trip to find a brighter day
Tucked away in the dustiest corner
of the darkest of lonely rooms
Countless black and white delights
lay cold and brittle
The memories they recorded are
tucked away in albums
Ragged shoe-boxes
filled to the corrugated brim
Overflowing plastic pages
Black and White memories
of the road taken…

The journey on this long road
had many twists and turns
Pot hole twisted ankles
Bumps and bruises,
obstructions brought travelers to their knees
Indecision's crossroads went past
that road not taken
Paths and trails forged
through the thick density of perplexity
Life’s conundrums
of forward movement.
Pathways of nonconformity
must be new trails blazed
Silent reflection in quest
of a brighter, more hopeful,
peaceful existence

Inertia that carried momentum's
uncontrolled cadence
drifting through moments
swept away by turmoil
All moments recorded and remembered
as if even the darkest night’s
memories meanings ,
would somehow be revealed ,
timelessly , from first to last
Retrospective revelations
found in black and white images

Stacks of life in Black and White
Cracked and discolored by darkness
Tattered and faded by the light
Vivid and daunting
Positive photo prints
Negative film strips
Slides to reprint
lost memories illumination
Magnification seen through the looking glass
Snippets of life’s baggage left behind
now remain as still similes of lost time
Serving as a reminder,
preserving  destiny's journey
documenting life's long and winding road followed...

 © 2012 Harlon Rivers  

Unbridled Darkness

...this is a  " Diary of the Falling Dominoes " chapter , called " Unbridled Darkness."   It is written about enduring the darkness of a Bi Polar disorder cycle...

Unbridled Darkness

As I search for the light 

in this eerily familiar room

Darkness won’t let me

find the switch I assume

I feel for the walls

that confine this hopeless space

So close yet so far away

that known boundaries are misplaced

Where lays that lost tunnel

that funnels away the despair ?

I know I have been there on hands and knees

naked, broken, bleeding and bare

Obscurity consumes me

I sense my aching soul

Am I back here again

in the isolation of forlorn holes ?

Is this a daunting dimness

no faint light may penetrate ?

Are these dark shadows’

self-tormenting delusions only a chimera state ?

Can I patiently wait

for the illusive light in this room ?

Isolation hears no mourning

as if this were my ultimate tomb ?

Blessed be the final anguish

when merciful surrender evolves  into solitude

After all I nearly found redemption,

when I was rescued from earthly turpitude

Memories of slowly drowning,

gasping for a vivid dream

As the angels of mercy hovered over

the ultimate final scene

Don’t deny what’s within the shadows

The  soul is never alone

In this place where midnight floods heartache,

with all that insignificance condones

Surely hopefulness  has merely vanished

as broken hearts leak

The last drops of love rain down in silence

while the spirit within is willing but the flesh is weak

The soul of a man still clenches

for the tunnels to daylight

If only the mind could follow

its intuition’s path into black and white

As I search for the light

in this proverbial empty space

Dreaded darkness won’t unveil

illumination’s key to guidance that’s misplaced

These walls seem so claustrophobic

like fear has consumed

But darkness still envelops

the warrior’s tomb

Yearning for a passage

that was lost along route

Scratching and crawling,

loneliness timidly reaches out  ...

© 2013 Harlon Rivers  …  All Rights Reserved

Essence of the Dawn

Sitting by the muddy pond

I count crows one by one

Bullfrogs croak in silky silence

There is something sacred

about earthy mud oozing

between your toes

Bluebirds line up on a wire

as I savor the bird’s melodic song

My old dog hears life

beneath this rain soaked ground

Her mystic senses view visions 

underneath the dawning sun

There are mountains to climb

Stones to throw

so you’ve got to love it

or leave me alone

This search is for my essence

A misplaced spirit was hidden by a haze ,

as a moment lost was never really gone

The keeper of your secrets trust 

will never abandon you alone

The weight of the world’s gravity

overwhelms the solitude while sinking down

buried alive barefooted, deep into quick sand

Taste and smell this life's secrets

held in your soul’s sturdy hands

On the outside you wear them like a mask

where your sunburned skin

sheds your incarcerated sins

Squamous cell confusion reigns

Life’s unhealed lesions 

are not a path to hell

" It makes no difference

if it’s night or day

it’s as if the shadows

never seem to fade away "

On this emerging crack of dawn

I’d give everything away I own

for a moment's peace away

from this rocky,  muddy 

barbed wire throne

In the eloquent morning stillness ,

there’s nothing but veiled hope
yawning at the new dawn

Love evades this stigma's bitter sweet being

Crawling out from the shroud of darkness

into the daybreak’s light 

The sun rises from the shadows thrown

illuminating 

some sacred  

hopeful

distant pond...

©  Harlon Rivers 

Mending Unraveled Threads

... a poem about the times when we struggle to see things clearly ... Like the moments when it can feel like the mind can become a twisted and tangled mess ...Everybody has turbulent Monday's now and then ... Just some more often than others ...

... A new chapter from " The Diary of the falling Dominoes ."

Mending Unraveled Threads

From time to time the thoughts get so twisted
Lost in vague and muddled silent reverie
If only the silenced words could be spoken clearly
An untangled and redrawn picture
Seen in a new light’s shining glow

The silk threads spun get knotted and tousled
Where the web is blindly woven out of sight
Interlaced within the shadow’s darkness
Ensnarled loose skeins get harder to unravel
When the tangled mess is known by heart

When the trailing vines of the vineyard get twisted
Entwined in the forgotten moments of a time pasted
The grapes of wrath craft a bitter sweet vintage
Gone astray within the jumbled maze unfurling
The crawling vines reaching for the radiant sunlight

A journey’s tapestry montage becomes unraveled
Tugging too hard at the past’s hanging strand
Unraveling and exposing every last stitch of thread
As the collage of snippets from the past
Comes unglued

Can you imagine looking up at the enlightening moment
As the mosaic of glistening stars
Assembled the enchanting sky ?
The moment the universe unveiled crystal clear perfection
Far beyond the mystic illumination of the midnight sun

Do you remember when you held me tight as I trembled?
You can’t see where you’re going in the pouring rain
You knew for an instant I was lost deep within my being
Until hope parted the clouds
Letting love’s light shine right on through ...

© 2013 Harlon Rivers  … All Rights Reserved

" Night Mist "...Music to read by ~

The Space between Thunder & Lightning

Have you ever thought about the space between?  Recently I sat writing a list of such things... This is a poem about what can go on during the moment between thunder and lightning ~ 

For me, creative writing is a type of subjective practical magic for the times when imagination knows no boundaries limiting access to dreams of other realms ~

It may surprise you how many you can come up with if you made your list.   So as the list grew, so did emotive thoughts expanding upon what the distance is or what it can mean to us....

Okay so things like the space between a rose bud and a blooming rose...planting a seed and then waiting for the harvest, the first step in a journey and then arriving at a destination, the space between love & hate, birth & the passing of life, black & white, The silk cocoon & the Butterfly, the moon & the earth etc...

The space is as infinite as the list of possibilities.   In this case I was thinking about the silent void between a visual bolt of Lightning and the Thunderclap breaking that silence...how many times I have waited in that "space", that "limbo ," counting the distance between ...

The Space Between Thunder and Lightning

Standing at the threshold in the silent space

between thunder and lightening

Straddling the door sill of uncertainty,

stranded in a continuum of discontent

One foot in…One foot out

It's just a  step away…One foot forward

while the other follows the wanderlust 

of an evolving enigma

The first step begins

a journey of a thousand miles

Walk to the end of this long and winding road

Carry the weight of an unfinished life in this soul

Breathe in the stillness

of the tempest calm

The ethereal instant within

the eerie pause  of natural hesitation

The exhilarating silent fusion linking the anticipation

between the bolt of lightning and the thunderclap ;

nature’s well performed sleight of hand

Two souls touch igniting carnal synthesis

Reaching upward to the heavens they draw strength

from the spirit of the lightening and the hail

The ominous sky’s anger … the storm’s fury fuel's the essence of verve

Vibrant celestial elements manifests a drenching downpour 

Heightened senses are enhanced by an electric aura

squeezing out every last drop

from the enchanting moment of stunned silence 

Spirits transcend a cleansing rain ... invigorating heart of soul ~

©Harlon Rivers 2013 ...February 28th, 2013

" A Bird in the Hand "

A Bird in the Hand

A sound was heard at my

garden door

A feathered smudge found upon it

There she lay in frightened

trembling dismay

A giant knelt... yet still towering above her

He reached out and touched her

pounding heart

Then cupped her warmth in his hand

She stayed awhile until

she could smile

At the gentle human mystery 

This love they shared

is uncommonly rare

She knew she could be freed

Before she flew

she whispered a song she knew

into the giant’s  beard

“I cannot make you happy"

"You're a wounded bird like me"

"be free...you must find the strength to fly”…

A bird in your hand

is worth two in the bush

"Come fly away with me"...

© 2012 Harlon Rivers … All Rights Reserved

Written March 1^st, 2012

Trees We Climb Upon

Trees We Climb Upon

Climbing like a child of the limbs
destined for visions of grandeur
Roots aspire to push growth , above and beyond ,
from the bed rock of grounded beginnings

Insatiable anticipation rising recklessly
Intention expanding further than unknown pinnacles
Destinations sought with blind hope
seeking indivisible unseen new horizons

A place where nature’s magnificent trunks evolve
into the branches that stretch
out into the infinite universe,
providing a guiding stairway extending beyond the heavens

Where the union of compatible spirits
manifesting buoyant thoughts,
illuminate dreams,
beyond the obscure threshold into oneness

Uncertainty blurs an elevated labyrinth passage
through branches and limb’s web of intersections ;
weaving a pathway leading to the next step forward
towards the summit to unveil the vague clarity

Breathing in the subsistence of faith
with an unnoticed yet freshly awakened fervor
Exhaling an essence of glowing hope
while groping for the next higher branch   

Manually ascending through disappointments
bearing the careless burden of wild hope
Aspiring to grasp branches never reached
while searching for unimaginable heights

Insensible understanding yields doubt ;
knowing slick branches have broken before
from far too heavy of a load to bear
Freely falling from the hidden places
where trees lean into the sky

Owls chatter through the winter night
As day breaks, increasing sunlight radiates
upon the slippery mossy bark adorned ladder
leading sky-bound by daylight

" Oh ancient spirit of the soul of all trees "
" Please don’t let the child of the limbs
slip and fall from your amazing grace "
Awakening ... is expecting to fly ~

Harlon Rivers ... February 7 th, 2013 

"A Vacant Room Left Behind"

... from "The Diary of the Falling Dominoes" chapters

the halls are all empty

where a thriving joy

once dwelled ;

simplicity

moved on ~

dusk followed

eyes wide open ,

infinite raindrops

counted

… one by one

shadows

absorbed

the

lucid

glow

… darkness

consumes,

all heart's ache

have known

stars turn blue

day lilies' dawn

of surrender

blossoms bow,

black cloud's

dull pain lingers

total eclipsed shine

veils truth of luminosity

 love guide the way

out of darkness ~

into the truth and the light ' …

Sifting Through the Chaff

... the sun comes up one  morning ... in the blink of an eye ~ it all dawns on you ~

Sifting Through the Chaff

Looking at all the changes

Searching through the rubble

for the scattered traces

of how far we’ve come

Dare not slip or slide

a single step backwards ;

sometimes what’s gone

needs to be left far behind
The past is a slippery slope ...

There is a delicate sense of balance

that remains vividly renewed .

Better days have been dawning

all around one sole heart

All heart’s ache have known

a life once too misunderstood

Treading water ... patiently waiting 

while running out of time waiting in the wings ~

Sifting through the grain and chaff ,

throwing caution to the wind

Let the dust and ashes vanish

The smoke and smoldering embers

fly away free, like chaff in the tempest breeze ;

vague memories of burning bridges

are nothing more than memories ~

A broken dream tuned into aching debris

Time never keeps ...

The last stroke of midnight ends

even living each day like it’s the last

Weighing thoughts and measuring words

just ruminates what’s past 

When a shining light flickers ,

the sun comes up one  morning

and in the blink of an eye it all dawns on you ~

only love will mend a fragile heart … 

Harlon Rivers...January 25th, 2013

Frozen Inversion

... For the past two weeks an inversion has hovered over the homestead ... various life events have me in a daunting insomnia cycle .   Morning interludes with the events of each dawning day are my best moments right now...This is a free form narrative prose poem , from my minds and cameras eye ~

Frozen Inversion

Watching black and white in slow motion

Nature's sunrise hypothermia grips the crack of dawn ;

brushing away the frosty star dust ~
as it stretches and yawns ...

Rays of borrowed sunlight

enlighten winter’s darkness ,

igniting a pale dim glow on the hazy horizon ...

Daybreak’s sunrays ~ tease sleepy tree tops

Deer cuddle in the tall frost covered switchgrass ,

shivering to stay warm among the frozen fiddleheads

Soon the shining sunbeams will filter through

the ice crystallized fir brows ,

tantalizing dormant hope for brighter beginnings ...

Evergreen pinnacles lean towards

phantom solar encounters of organic cosmic delight ;

timber spires shadowing the quivering deer beneath,  

instinctively grounded deeply in mother earth's cocoon ~

The tall white leftover summer grass spikes

provide shelter from the cold winter night’s air ...

A familiar sense of safety overpowers

the numbness of their frosted fir hides

Thick haired winter coats

adorn sacred flesh and blood ,

warming the frost heaves

under the matted down carpet of chilly moss ...

The sun plays hide and seek

throughout the out stretchered gnarly arms

of the massive native oaks 

Thick frost coated lichens glisten

Ice sparkles and shimmers as if rays of hope

twinkle on the sleeping giant’s stature ...

White tuffs, like sugar coated cotton candy ,

slowly tease imagination and memory

as the ice crystals

hug each other for warmth

while the moment fades

to pearl grey ...

The frigid air slowly swirls ~

The morning's glow of the frozen sky

manifests into a kaleidoscope's vision
of cognac to magenta hues

A captivating , mesmerizing dawn

disappears in the blink of an eye ~

Turning an enchanting  moment’s paradise

into a whiter shade of pale ...

Harlon Rivers ... January 22nd , 2013

...photographs by Harlon Rivers

" Whiter Shade of Pale " ... David Lance 

instrumental piano