Rivers of Time

 

Dinosaurs waiting for stone to erode,

their skeletons covered, uncovered again,

iron that’s forgotten the blood where it flowed

and phosphorous leached from a primitive brain–

delicate sabers of soft-stepping cats

enshrouded in shimmering oceans of sand,

strata of relative sediment that’s 

concealing the bones of the earliest man–

visible traces of numerous beasts,

the sum of Earth’s creatures forever enshrined–

signs of their passing won’t slow in the least

the rivers and runnels of ongoing time. 

~ Dean Neighbors ~

“We loved the earth, but could not stay” ~ Loren Eiseley~ 

This poem was inspired by an article by Loren Eiseley.

Mildly Blue

On a mildly blue day in forever,
in a slumber world born of a choice,
past the mountains and molehills of never,
where the river meets ocean, a voice…

is reciting an often-told story
of love, the definitive prize,
of a boy in his whimsical glory,
of a girl with her soul in her eyes.

It’s a study in secretive glances,
it's a ballad in hesitant rhyme,
of do-over hearts and romances
unbound by the shackles of time.

Then deep in the night or the morning
my, supposedly, untroubled soul
in league with my heart, sounds a warning
that the lease on my life can’t control.

Am I mending a heart that was broken?
Am I telling a tale out of School?
Am I shepherd to wishes unspoken...
or a dreamer exposed as a fool?

~ Dean Neighbors ~

Of Love

A feeling of euphoria,
a woman and a rose,
a long, committed partnership,
of love the husband knows.

A tenuous and abstract thing
of love he understands…
or thinks he does until they
put a baby in his hands.

A tiny girl in tatted lace
has brought him to his knees,
she grips his heart with fear at
every cough and baby sneeze.

She calls to him in silent nights,
the deepest sleep defeats--
she holds his breath in hostage till
he knows her heart still beats.

Behold the hulking man of men,
of beastly, manly powers--
who’s brought to tears by tiny fists
with gifts of mangled flowers.

A feeling of euphoria
a little girl, a rose,
a dirty face, a sloppy kiss
of love the father knows.

~Dean Neighbors~

Posted by Dean Neighbors at 1/31/2006 04:35:00 PM