A Poem By Bernadette // 12/9/2011

A dark city
Where a stream of dreams
Have come passing through
To give you the dream of the gulls
And the heartbeat of the waves

No song is murmured here
Nor dream stayed and lingered
There is a wind which carries them away
Like the wings of a raven

Your thoughts are not spoken
And silence leaves you wondering
Wondering of a boat and an oar
All of timber and strings

And there is a river to ride your craft
Yet black like ink it is hued
And the sea does not feed it
Nor the lake on the shore

You sailed it once
The boat all painted and gilded
The timber creaking
Swaying to side to side

You dreamt of the moon
And set it upon your craft
You thought of the seas
Stain-glassed in the twilight

Yet the city was of shadows
And the river its own master
Black forest of black trees
Gazed and sang to you

A dark city you strove to flee
And the gulls are at sea
And you heard their words
And your pulse was silenced

You slept again
Within a gilded boat
You thought of the raven and thrush;
But it was gulls that you heard crying



you are AWESOME! That is all I have to say......

Elizabeth | Fri, 12/09/2011


The Holy Spirit is the quiet guest of our soul." -St. Augustine

This is very like a dream...

This is very like a dream... I feel like there is a story and a meaning in this which I understand, yet I can't put it into words. I have a feeling this will be in my head all day, though.
(Especially you thought of the raven and the thrush / but it was the gulls that you heard crying ...)

Hannah W. | Sat, 12/10/2011


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