Time Enough

In a world lit by summer
during day’s sweet drifting
the rain runs green
and all the buried springs
glow in the soil of sleep.

Even in this mild terrain
the air is burdened
with the taste of regret
the seduction of darkness
and a wilderness beginning to unravel.

We have a weather all our own
an inward circling sun
a river of stars that has no source
and a long history of rain.

No more our days deliciously surrender to the unknown.
No more the lying naked and inventing
new names for nakedness.
No more the singing echoes.

The golden girls are gone.
The bears are dead.
The spells, which kept our children close,
and the voice that sent us off into the world
becomes our own
as we tell the young

You’ll come once upon a time.
Only once.
Before darkness rises like hot breathe
and the lotus moon’s still blooming
in our arms there may be time enough
to choose an ending
that has not chosen us.

Ruth Daigon | Mudlark No. 25
Contents | To Kiss the Earth