Sentimental Moonlit Sounds

... it has been said that time heals all wounds ... seasons change ... the more things change, the more they stay the same ..." I love you but I'm not in love with you " ... there is a " cliche  du jour " for every occasion ...

Well here is a new one...well spun in a different way ..." we did the things that we learned we shouldn't do again ~ what wasn't learned from mistakes, we will make them " ... a lyric from wild Country by "Wake Owl"

I watched as you disappeared following the infinite rails, headed for unknown final destinations, far beyond the distant horizon…

The Great Horned Owls hoot willfully for hours

breaking the silence of a cloudy and humid summer night.  

The windows to the outside world are wide open

allowing the sweetness of the firs and pines fragrance 

to permeate the stale bedroom air. 

The conversation between the owls

sounds like a long distance phone call

in which time pauses between 

the short awkward sentences.

  

One sounds as if she was in the next room.

As their unique majestic chatter

echoes off the giant trees,

as the other yearns to be near

from a country mile away.

He answers her questions willingly

from the stillness on other side of the draw;

up the treed hill overlooking the rippling brook

where it enters the cool spring water

trickling over the mossy rock edged mirror pond .

From the north, beyond the crest of the hill,

a new sound is heard in the night’s darkness

hushing the flirtatious owls lullaby.

It is the sound of the distant trains, down in the valley,

speeding though the night on the infinite rails.

  

Once again from this vantage point, 

I count crossing horn blasts like sheep 

First whistles are barely heard from great distance

evolving into an undeniable ending to the peaceful solitude.

A dream ruining, eyes wide open, ruminating noise.

Finally  fading into the night air restoring silence

after 28 horn blasts warning all creatures and mankind

that the train from somewhere passed in the night.

Crossing crossroads through great physical and  cultural distances

traveling under the cover of night to nameless destinations. 

The Great Horned Owls were silenced

by a thick aura hovering in the atmosphere, 

a stillness filled with heavy nighttime air.

Weighed down by poignant sentimental emotion,

the silence of ardent reverie replaced their

eerie calling with a heavy thick haze

you could cut with a knife.

I reminisced quietly in my mind

over that exact sound scenario’s feeling of déjà vu,

knowing I've been here before through many seasons past... 

Remembering our time together... 

As you lie next to me

with only a musky cotton sheet

partially covering your sleeping beauty.

Listening to the silence

broken by the wonders of nature.

I watched you countless times;

content to be in the moment

as I enjoyed the melody of your sensual

exhaled breath as you slept.

Willingly, I silently counted 

owls and trains... contemplating

the loss of this fading moment

mindful time waits for no one

while watching your peaceful slumber

knowing one day soon you would vanish to be free.

I watched as the red sky dawned

as you boarded that train.

Abandoned and left behind 

with the burden of these roots 

grounded in the bed rock of my history ;

I gazed hopelessly blinded by the rising sun, 

as you disappeared following the infinite rails, 

headed for unknown final destinations, 

far beyond the distant horizon …

© 2011, 2012, 2013 ... Harlon Rivers