9-19-14<\/strong><\/p>\n Woods are filled with whys. ~ Mary Weems<\/p>\n O\u2019Neill Woods<\/strong><\/p>\n The beginning of winter. The two lines stop at a parking lot. ~ Daniel Bellinger<\/p>\n Winter Words<\/strong><\/p>\n The opening of things, the closing too the mind is a palimpsest the sun obscured by clouds over the course of hours inside I remain warm the hours count words too one word buried by the next ~ Jayce Renner<\/p>\n Age of Aquarius<\/strong><\/p>\n In this forest Ash and oak drink in of flower children, returns a joyous in the matrix ~ Dianne Borsenik<\/p>\n FIN<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" 9-19-14 Woods are filled with whys. Twigs, branches, trunks, ask questions I can\u2019t answer. ~ Mary Weems O\u2019Neill Woods The beginning of winter. Two lines of headlamps move on opposite sides of a valley. Between the trees and the sky,…<\/p><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/887"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=887"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/887\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":889,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/887\/revisions\/889"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=887"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=887"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=887"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nTwigs, branches, trunks, ask
\nquestions I can\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n
\nTwo lines of headlamps move
\non opposite sides of a valley.
\nBetween the trees and the sky,
\nonly the lights show where they are going.<\/p>\n
\nThe lights go out.
\nA few stars shine in the night sky.
\nTrees and shrubs wait in the darkness.
\nNow a few cars start, motors turning.<\/p>\n
\nlight fades around the corner<\/p>\n
\nlayers of half-forgotten musings
\nrecede into the background
\nand surge forward
\nwhen aligned with
\nthe foreground pattern
\nof the present<\/p>\n
\nour star reduced to a plain white disk<\/p>\n
\nthe snow piles up —
\na shivering blanket for the land<\/p>\n
\nhuddled under covers, hats,
\nwool socks, cotton sweaters<\/p>\n
\nthey drift and sway down —
\na thin blanket for the page<\/p>\n
\nlaying about, loitering in the mind<\/p>\n
\nof a different god
\nwhere angels’ eyes
\nare closed and kissed,
\nstained glass walls
\nwill not be missed.<\/p>\n
\nthe sacred dawn,
\ntheir branches stippled
\nby the rain.
\nSilver fingers trace
\nthe veins<\/p>\n
\nwhisper patterns
\nto them in the womb.
\nStars give birth,
\nconstellations dance,
\nand earth<\/p>\n
\nmusic to her
\nfields. Songs long
\ndormant now explode,
\nflinging wide
\nthe change encoded<\/p>\n
\nof the soul. Rejoice!
\nAs we forgive us
\nof our sins.
\nThis is where
\nit all begins.<\/p>\n