A Poem By Aisling // 9/6/2006

mist hangs suspended
bewitching, elusive
drifts over the soybean field
reaching up from the neighbor’s lake
reaching, rising
a breath from a soul

the moon is a mirror
a sliver less than full
a mirror of your inside
warmth, wildness, wonder
and room to grow
its cool light echoes over the cool earth
a consolation
against the death of day

and the wideness of the sky meets the reach of the horizon
and blushes
and the blush pales
until it reaches a darling nature
neither white nor blue
but the something in-between that the stars are made of
purity itself, incarnate

and from pale glory
grows the deepening flush of blue
the pulse of an ocean
the color climbs, wells up
transformed into wealth
into depth
holding the eye
holding the heart with awe
with delight
every moment lovelier than anything
and every moment more lovely

and there at the very crown of the world
she swells farther
greater than imagination could hope for
an echo of things unseen
and in her heart she bears the stars
the scars
of a blessed assurance
whispering the promise of a lifetime
and a beauty beyond the brokenness
the broken dying day

i shed a weary tear
over the summer that has slipped through dreaming fingers
a summer i shall never see again
a moment passing from me into memory
i embrace the cool, quiet horizon
heart to heart
wondering to wonder
unknowing to unknown
autumn may catch me unready
but i will meet it unswerving

and the mist hangs suspended
over the soybean field


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