Blue Heron.
I had forgotten about the great blue heron, the strength of wings
There gliding
I had forgotten about the great day coming
The sun so often providing
I slept with dreams of unified stars
And cradled features of the light
And wept the longest
Years thereafter
Before the ending of
the night
I am a writer and director of the day and time
of year
The casting of the light inside, the grace of
all my dear
And with my love you groweth before your time of death
I pave the way, with joyous living, your everlasting breath
I cease to call the daffodils, I cease to claim the bees
But unify the longings of love, within a subtle
I fold your absolution
Into tiny forms of light
And kiss with gentle notions, the lids there of your sight
So with my heart and soul Theron, I place a little prayer
And welcome home
The garden, a rose in which to bare.
The pilot and the dust.
The gondolier of wind
whispers like a crazed man, sweeping the streets with waving branches
A blowing breath or angry kiss
A reminder of his strength and confidence
Like little flowers hiding in the grass, thrown
left and right to sway
Chatter like children
Upon This very day
The air accompanied by a loud whirling sound
As dust becomes
the pilot, high above
the ground
No peace or rest in silence, an uneasy feeling braces the heart
And just as the wind tells a story of hardship
Crazed and angry 
In trust, likely to be carried further
The pilot and the dust.

One thought on “Poems by Nardine Sanderson

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