Raisin Wrinkled morsel Formerly plump round grape Sun-dried, shriveled, concentrated A sweet snack savored by grand ol' granny Concentrated, shriveled, sun-dried Formerly plump round girl Wise and wrinkled Raisin © 2005, Aaron Brown
Month: August 2008
Patience
She stands behind me in everything that I do; while I live worlds away she waits for me to come back to her. She smiles and supports the walls of my existence; those fragile structures that would fall without her patience. The sadness behind her eyes speaks in epic volumes, but she never lets it show. Except, perhaps, to the face in the mirror. She waits in my dreams to call me back to her world; when I wake in the morning she is always there to welcome me home again. I love her with everything that I am for all that I am is due to her. For all the times I have ever made her cry may I make her laugh a thousand more. © 1997, Aaron Brown
Of Light and Dark
I yearn for thee when night skies grow brightest and Midnight glows brighter than Dawn... But you are a creature of day, and will never witness the glory of galaxies blazing their triumph across the brightdark heavens... I exist in Darkness which to me is more beautiful than the Sun's terrible brightness. The stars are delicate and fragile in their expression of love while the Sun blares it out for all to see... But who can look at the Sun? I watch the stars and we are content. © 1991, Aaron Brown
Midnight in the Forest of Dreams
Midnight‚ My forest of dreams... Movement all around But only in sound, For nothing is seen... Ahead‚ Whispers of footsteps... Something new has come To my eternal forest, Someone else... Starlight‚ In borealis curtains... Through the black boles Of silver-leaved trees, Reveals a glimpse to me... Beauty‚ In moonlight framed... She turns at my approach And without a word spoken, I welcome her to my heart. © 1992, Aaron Brown
Loveplay (revised)
Take from me; make of me what you will. But write my script with fine-feathered quill, and don't coach when I've slip't. Stay with me; say to me you'll not go. But paint my scenes with steady brushstrokes, and don't tell me what it means. By your side I won't hide anything. But sing your lines with voice softly loving, and I'll open up like fine red wine. Heart open wide, pride cast aside, lost without you. But play your stage with superb surprise in review, and I'll never try to escape the cage. © 1991, Aaron Brown
Holly
I bask in the warm glow from the cascading torrents of captured summer sunlight framing these ice-blue diamond portals coolly gazing upon the secrets of my existence. Her smile lights the way as she drifts serenely along these dusty corridors past rooms long unused and forgotten within the depths of my heart. She lightly treads the stairwell spiraling upward toward this high and lonely room where I sit and gaze back into those crystalline windows reflecting the spirit within her. She bears with her the keys to open the rusted locks holding closed these doors leading to the secret springs from which flow the currents that become the river of my soul. © 1992, Aaron Brown
Guinevere
To gaze upon you is to see the drunken spirit of summer's golden glory ablaze This cascading sunlit radiance ignites endless skyborne fires after serenity raining To listen to you is to hear joyous chorals from spring's laughing resurgence These dulcet angels' harmonies compose a cappella themes from life's rising voices To breathe deep of you is to smell subtle fragrances from autumn's perpetual change These earthy russet undertones return forgotten memories of yesterday dreaming To taste lite of you is to drink cold clear waters from winter's last flowing stream These icily refreshing draughts laced with subtle teasing spices from life's future vintages To touch upon you is to feel the complex tapestry of years woven by our fated hands This silk-smooth living thread weft with coarse grey wool after experience living © 1992, Aaron Brown
First Night of Autumn
The smoke-tainted wind brushes graceful fingers through skeletons of leaves, discussing the night in whispers among hibernating trees whose stately branches bear night's jeweled canopy. Stiff grasses laugh in delight at the campfire's firefly sparks dancing in ritualistic splendor above enthusiastic flames waving them onward from below to journey upward toward shimmering brethren above. Fallen leaves fly forth to begin their own midnight jaunts - swirling with the fickle wind, they play music to wish upon with brass chimes hanging outside the darkened houses dreaming of summer departed. © 1991, Aaron Brown
Field Theory
A current flows forth from Eternity,
bearing within it all the worlds
and foundations of the Universe.
Its grasp is gentle, yet pervasive,
Nothing escapes the velvet glove
it wears with grace over steel.
Those within are too slight to see
or even grasp that they are swirled
along with its flow — and so dispersed.
None perceive the gift it strives to give,
Few feel the faint but insistent shove
to rise beyond the dust where they kneel.
Carving its course through banks of Time,
the current has no beginning and no end
foreseeable to itself or those it flows past.
For to all who fish from its shores
it will always be, and has always been,
A fixture of Forever passing into Infinity.
It is its own‚ separate and sublime
Destiny’s child sent out for itself to fend,
Of all things only its fate is cast.
Its end becomes its beginning once more
Leviathan Ourobouros, sight unseen,
The moebius strip guarding Eternity.
©1991, Aaron Brown
Fear
Fear has strength. It grips,
squeezing away the breath of dreams,
crushing the faith of heroes
down in the depths of memory’s heart.
Fear has teeth. It gnaws,
cracking apart the bones of reason,
sucking out sanity’s marrow
behind the back of the mind’s eye.
Fear has scales. It sneaks,
slithering through outgrown skins,
brushing the clenched darkness
knotted in the stomach’s pit.
Yet endure, endure for
Hope has wings. It flies,
feathered on the morning breeze,
carrying that single olive twig
above the fear in the waters below.
And all floods recede,
and all floods recede.
© Aaron Brown, all rights reserved.
(with nods to the classic by Emily Dickinson and to the Book of Genesis)
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