of a winter’s night

the path vanishes
inside crystals—spiraled, wind
swept, alabastered

in eerie silence
stars dazzle indigo night–
sky patterns limn moon

silhouettes transform,
reconfigure the landscape–
trees close in, bow down

alone, I open
myself as if I could be
lifted by the light

I find myself in pieces–
creatured and held by branched wings

Brendan at earthweal provided a series of December images as inspiration this week. I chose the image above, which was perfect for a watercolor interpretation.

I had been struggling with my poem when I saw The Wombell Rainbow’s poetic form challenge this week. The haiku sonnet proved to be just the structure that I needed to clarify my words.

No snow here yet, just another dreary December rainy day.

Inside my December room, Wednesday 8 pm,

the window reflects only me, but
I know that beyond, in the dark, the
branches cast their shadow
against the sky—a patterned whisper, a voice
like wrinkled wind.  Outside is
far away from the artificial glitter of a
wire-wrapped tree, sparkling a mere
imitation of stars, pretending to echo in a vibration
of what the night has to say—the messages passed amongst
the members of the nocturnal choir.  The
listening of the landscape requires attention—the trees’
murmuring, air displaced by invisible wings, thin
threads woven in soundwebs—stillness shivering the leaves.

A golden shovel poem for the dVerse prompt from Peter for endings. I’ve used a line from M L Smoker’s poem “Mercy”–a source for a number of pages of writing in my journal.

“But the shadow voice is a mere vibration amongst the trees’ thin leaves.”
–M L Smoker, Mercy