Desert Mountains


[ i ] 

Brought I not home the silvered sky;

A dome of blue where gray doves fly,

That pass'd above, that pass'd me by;

'Tis now sweet dream that shall not die.


[ ii ]    

Like swallow's flight that does return

'Fore setting sun seems forests burn,

Extinguished by dark night's return

When morning sun dries dew on fern,

A glimpse of which my heart does yearn

And from which does my heart much learn.


[ iii ] 

The loss of you that pass'd moment

When winds had ceased & time seemed bent

A time on loan; a moment lent,

A cherished time the gods had sent.


Of fleeting time -just what is meant?

(When time seems stilled, 'tis just a feint)

Before our eyes away it went!

When painting you was my intent.


[ iv ] 

Oh, in my dreams -you standing there

With golden locks & skin so fair,

Your head dipped low, your shoulders bare;

To you said I: “Strip! Do you dare?”

With look forlorn, you did not care;

Removed thine blouse with graceful flare

And then thine skirt, layer by layer

That caused my heart to wither there.


[ v ]

In burning sun & humid air

An actress, dear, a seasoned player

Who plays with time & from it tear

The memories from our sultry lair.

[ Jkh 2011 ]



The Chapel at Ghost Ranch, New Mexico

You, Twilight

[ i.] Mountains, shimmering violet in the morning light

Sooth my soul, dimming the brilliance of my hindsight.

You, painting on your canvas your delight,

Painting ‘til the waning rays of twilight.

There, desert winds caress your auburn hair

Where, you, relieved of all but mundane care

Turn this way; linger in a moment’s stare;

A gentle gust your dress does shift & flare.

Throughout the years this scene I’ve memorized

For mountains naught, but what that time belies.


[ ii ] The restless winds, the ravens’ distant cries

And near the creek, the blinking fireflies

And in the night, the owl’s staring eyes

Before the dawn its blazing sunrise

Dissolved the dark, a cosmic compromise

When to our dreams we said our sad goodbyes.


[Moment II]

In a world that's oh, so vast;

Where, from each dawn her dies are cast.

Just how long will a moment last?

A moment's flow: too slow, too fast?


Oh, know'd thee then, dear; know'd thee this:

Just what 'tis like true passion'd kiss-

Then, source of pain or source of bliss,

A pleasure's moan or vengeful hiss?

Would each of them a thing to miss

Or seem to thee a thing remiss?


Know'd thee love, one quickly sown,

A seed of love too quickly flown;

Its nascent shoot: 'twas ripped not grown,

Scraped from the earth; shaved from the bone

Like many wisdom'd words of Koan

'Twas treasured time; one to bemoan,

'Twas borrowed time; a time on-loan?

With foresight, dear, thee could have known.


'Twas time of light; a time of dark;

A setting sun on singing lark;

The distant sound of warning bark;

Thy ship of fate a Cuttysark

Or darkened veil of Celtic's nark?


Moan: symphony of ecstasy?

'Twas moment when thine soul was free,

Its wayward path its destiny

-Or mind-made penitentiary?


The Rio Grand at Pilar 

[ Moment XLI ]

The river flows with painter's brush;

A patient flow; there is no rush;

Tho' barren there, right here 'tis lush;

Here, dark gray rock 'gainst evening's blush;

Appears life through my artist's brush.

 jkh 2011 

Rio Grande

Before me lies the Rio Grande

Where it snakes through Pueblo land.

Behold ! -its beauty as I stand:

Its distant mountains colored tan

And ochers, pinks its stones & sand;

In awe I stand with brush in hand.



© Jack Hannula 2013