Just as in a day Can take a breath Enslave it By evening freed In listless sigh Of resignation And sleep Don't dream it, be it Is nature's cry As several evolutions Of matter Land on my thigh Her eyes trace the outlines Mating decorations Imagining them away To nothing Come undone Completely For several hundred and one Days spent between extremes Fighting, crying, sight Laughing, smiling, delight No greater affirmation More than three letters Yes, or I do In the still dark silence There is none other But you
Artists of Tasmania ~ Lucienne Rickard. Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery.
Behind closed doors Concertos applaud Vacant space Unadorned With gazing eyes Wondrous smiles Shoulder shrug Of thrilling chills Why keep such love Of life's liszt Behind closed doors When all ears could feel This beauty
Placing one pair Of bird watching Binoculars Inside the cap Of a navy hat The dichotomy Of my life In a cardboard box To move again Another new start This one makes ten
I recall the power Of words And silence Both can make You laugh Or cry Both can be used As weapons Or protection
So I look keenly Through looking glass At feathered friends Deserving our attention
While hiding away To collect Dust and mites Gold braid Felt and thread That hold together Memories Of a time When men were blind
If only I understood That my words Held power Over you I would use it For good To say only I love you If I could
Count the stars of heaven 