When the future had no past
The Eternal stretched wide
Wings of imagination
Against the chaos of a moment
That could not last —
The shadows of his thoughts
Swept through the maelstrom,
Weaving shredded tapestries
From the shining threads
Of dimly remembered dreams

Churning at his roots,
Disconsolate time
Wept on the shoulder of space,
Murmuring of dominions
Lost with his awakening —
Only to be reclaimed
When the dust of his kingdom
Settled on the whispered
Equations of primal law
Governing existence.

He lifted his piercing gaze,
Captivated by the shifting patterns
Sweeping between the horizons
Above the crumbling towers
Over which he held sway —
Made bold by his strength,
The boundaries of order
Expanded and fought
To win structure and form
From the madness of the void.

Then, satisfied with his
World in twisted instance,
He reversed his outward journey
And returned to contemplation,
Furling his imagination about his senses —
Licking their wounds,
Space and time crawled from below
To resume their blind dictatorship
Of the chaos surrounding
His newly dying world.

© 1991, 2005, Aaron Brown

There is a harsh love
borne with the swift wind
which nips at the noses
and reddened cheeks of children
clad in snow over wool.

On a white-blanketed hilltop,
the children laugh
with nervous anticipation
of the screaming plunge
down the steep slope,
Slick lightning ride
to the bottom of the world.

The emerging stars wink
to each other and
those reminiscing elders
busy remembering their own
breathless, brakeless races
through endless evenings,
bygone in yesteryear.

Darkness falls all too soon
but protests are stilled
by parents mustering the hordes
with promises of steaming cocoa
and hints about the wonders
waiting in bright boxes
beneath decorated trees.

Later, the wind brushes by
the sleeping houses of Midnight.
It plays with the pungent smoke
curling upward from chimneys,
and the soft flakes drift
into their appointed places
in tomorrow’s playground.

© 1991, Aaron Brown

Flitting among bright lanterns
Of stars in a winedark sky
Is a way to live and be
For backyard moths and I,
With our erratic and seemingly
Random dives and suicidal turns...

And the focus shifts......

Drifting among the firefly clusters
Of galaxies swirling through eternal night
Seems a fitting way to survive
For those spirits beyond our sight,
In the spirals of midnight they thrive
Drilling in unmarshalled musters...

And another page turns......

Intoxicated by the scent of Eternity
The world spins its youth away
Drawn onward by whispers of twilight
From the darkness following day,
The shifting future twists at Midnight
And where it turns lies Infinity...

And a hand closes the book.

© 1991, Aaron Brown

The moon rises above the city
through an eternal cycle of days.

Watching

The city sleeps beneath bright stars
that its dwellers rarely see
for sidewalks capture their gaze
within mazes of their own devising.

Waiting

We live penned in by walls unseen
until some grand accident
drags our reluctant eyes
above our own trudging feet.

Waking

Then childhood dreams set us free
to chase bold pirates
and sail on airless seas
driven by winds of imagination.

Wanting

Still, the sly moon smiles wisely,
sharing secrets with the city below. 

© 1991, Aaron Brown

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

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

If I would see the Darkness,
I have but to close my eyes

Behind this shield, in sight of dreams
Borders casually casualty on causality; extents
Quicksilver authored, spit; writ in reams

Myriad infinite streams outward flung;
Light and darkness, wind and dine,
Dance we to harmony yet unsung
Key signature; signed in cosine

Those secrets of Ancients past
Remain vivid, bright; flowing
Creating evolving shaping cast
Blue neon origami lightning
Illuminates deep black; knowledge, King

Timestreams interenterundertwine;
Braided dark right wrong light
Projected onscreen, mind on mine
Veiled, obscuring Fate's sight

When one alone, of others shorn
Would sever these fragile strands; existence
Fabric rent on bleeding thorn

Then would the Darkness behind
Blind, not add depth to Light

© 1991, Aaron Brown