My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring
And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze;
For above and around me the wild wind is roaring,
Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.
The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing,
The bare trees are tossing their branches on high;
The dead leaves, beneath them, are merrily dancing,
The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky.
I wish I could see how the ocean is lashing
......
Too proud to die; broken and blind he died
The darkest way, and did not turn away,
A cold kind man brave in his narrow pride
On that darkest day, Oh, forever may
He lie lightly, at last, on the last, crossed
Hill, under the grass, in love, and there grow
Young among the long flocks, and never lie lost
Or still all the numberless days of his death, though
......
The sun drops luridly into the west;
darkness has raised her arms to draw him down
before the time, not waiting as of wont
till he has come to her behind the sea;
and the smooth waves grow sullen in the gloom
and wear their threatening purple; more and more
the plain of waters sways and seems to rise
convexly from its level of the shores;
and low dull thunder rolls along the beach:
there will be storm at last, storm, glorious storm.
......
How brightly glistening in the sun
The woodland ivy plays!
While yonder beeches from their barks
Reflect his silver rays.
That sun surveys a lovely scene
From softly smiling skies;
And wildly through unnumbered trees
The wind of winter sighs:
Now loud, it thunders o'er my head,
......
The sky is cloudy, yellowed by the smoke.
For view there are the houses opposite
Cutting the sky with one long line of wall
Like solid fog: far as the eye can stretch
Monotony of surface & of form
Without a break to hang a guess upon.
No bird can make a shadow as it flies,
For all is shadow, as in ways o'erhung
By thickest canvass, where the golden rays
Are clothed in hemp. No figure lingering
......
Sunset
by Michael R. Burch
for my grandfather, George Edwin Hurt Sr., on the day he departed this life
Between the prophecies of morning
and twilight’s revelations of wonder,
the sky is ripped asunder.
The moon lurks in the clouds,
......
magenta magic
recently escaped eve's skies
darkening to plum
crows caw on the wing
as pink sun turns red-orange
day goes up in flames
mango berry crush
mahogany shadows move
......
The sky cries at times;
He emits fire, when needed;
Angry with a heart...
I see the sun run over the sea, later set
Below the horizon of Bay of Bengal, every evening
And the sea I see threat
The boys and girls, and sing
Whimsically, 'O, I'm now giant, be alert';
So they go apart.
I see the sun run over the meadow, later hide
Behind the trees of beautiful Bengal, every evening
And the meadow I see bid
......
Watching the sun lengthens a single moment.
There is no regret of the past,
No anxiety for the future.
A moment of beauty
A method to “forget”.
Forget mistakes made,
Paths taken.
Forget upcoming decisions,
New experiences.
......