Time Capsule

Aged and mellow
like the leaves of autumn,
the drift into sleep,
stooping shoulders
and faltering balance
speak of the body’s winter
with its blanket of cold,
grey fog on the rivers,
the stark outline of crows.
As the sun drops
deep into the south,
the shortened days
and long nights
lead me to the message
you left behind, buried
in the soft tissue of my body,
wanting me to remember
after the fires burned out
and the rain soaked ashes
dissolved into darkened loam.
With the pain and fury years gone by
like white rushing water,
the time capsule unpacks
the soft fur of your animal,
the forgotten touch of kindness
forming new words on the old stone
glimmering in the faded light.
The earth bowl of your altar
burnished and gold
glows as the incense sparks
and lifts into the winter sky,
free to go where the high winds go,
your memory kept safe
in the forest of my mind.

 

 

 


 


7 Responses to “Time Capsule”

  1. Forming new words on the old stone of my heart is, I believe, one of the great gifts an old man like me can give the world, to set sweet energy free again.

    Beautiful work, Don. Thank you.

  2. Rose Meeker says:

    Indeed, a beautiful poem to articulate a long and fervent journey.
    Thank you.

  3. Pichay says:

    Feeling current resides in soft tundra, as if protecting the great heart of Mother earth For now, it is quiet with perma frost. I wouldn’t survive its release. Yes…a time capsule. My heart needs Light, more Light, but I now lie quiet and await its season. Tears now would only freeze on my cheeks.

    Thank you, Don. This poetic expression necessitates deep consideration over time.

  4. Bill Dare says:

    Sooo deeply personal. Reminds me it has been sooo long since last we spoke face to face.

  5. stuart maclean says:

    “forming new words on the old stone” – captures it. I golfed today with friends I’d never met. We were brought together by the ‘old stone’, with “the forgotten touch of kindness”. A great day amongst friends.

  6. What amazing and glowing images you crafted here, Don!

  7. Another beautiful poem to ponder… the gift ….
    secreted in us all like one of those chinese balls one unwraps at a kids party with tiny treasures attached at varying intervals.. In the end it would seem we come again face to face with the mystery and goodness of pure kindness and forgiveness.

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