the storyteller

if you bother


to stop in your assumptions

the storyline told

by wide brimmed storyteller

gathering the children

in your head

telling of tales

the same tall tales

each of us listens

from his moving mouth

day in

day out

but when we turn our backs

in the circle round 

and look over the field of wildflowers

behind us all this time

we learn

we find

we can run free

into hazel meadows

when we stop

listening in our heads

to hear our hearts 

finding mine

in my search I saw you

quite by accident

not with intention 

to uncover a part I thought was me

a seed

I believed 

I was to nurture

settled into your soul

in wait of the one – me

that sapling in spiraled solitude

I believed

wound up wanting release

was really 

not mine at all

it was yours 

and finding mine was as easy as

coming home

silver ash

silver ash floating freely

as end approaches

glitter splayed 

flying high above the moon

as Chinese lanterns

sending messages

to those loved

to those loving

to those lovers

eclipsed beyond daylight

taking cover within the glow

of tonight

before the stars swallow the dusk

and fall like charcoal from the sky

into the fire of yesterday