Sunday, November 15, 2015

In The Time Of Dinosaurs

In the time of dinosaurs,
we were happy.

In the nights of silent spinning planets,
you could reach for my hand,
and it was there.

Since then, the sun has risen a thousand million times,
and has set as many, 
less one.

Now they have discovered
that monsters are more than bones--
we knew
that they were birds all along.

This afternoon, a comet will come, in all its rarity--
then a cloud.

Who knows what happens after that?
But, until then, 
before I turn to dust,

Here is a sound I call a song
in a language we called ours.
_____ 

11 comments:

hedgewitch said...

The music of this is simple and intangible, as of course, music always is--beyond the grasp of touch or the sense of sight, like love itself--the past is a vast continent we explore over and over again, looking for the source of its rivers--you have found at least one of them here. This part, so deceptively uncomplicated, is the one that really moved me the most, like a rush of wings you feel but is gone before the eye can capture the bird that made it:
"...This afternoon, a comet will come, in all its rarity--
then a cloud./ Who knows what happens after that?"

Kerry O'Connor said...

In a world filled with unanswerable questions and unfathomable mysteries, it would be nice to have the single certainty of love returned.

Sioux said...

The two word line "less one" is so moving.

Shay, you slay me--every time.

Ileana said...

The ending holds promise. ♥

Cloudia said...

interesting time-leaping tenses; will, were...









ALOHA, Friend
ComfortSpiral

(\__/)
(='.'=)
(")_('')


Lynn said...

Awesome, as always.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh to reach out a hand, and someone's be there.......sigh........this is incredibly lovely. Especially the last two lines. A poem to make lonely one who is well accustomed to being alone.

Ella said...

Beautiful, Shay! This is the language that matters most~

ellen abbott said...

oh, sweet.

Shawna said...

I read this as if the speaker is writing about a time when he/she was a child, talking to a sibling to whom he/she was close. The "dinosaurs" are their parents. This is about how bonded the children were to one another. But something took one away from the other. I think the speaker is talking to a sibling who died, and now the one left behind feels alone ... but still tries to connect with the spirit of the other and maintain somewhat of a childlike spirit him-/herself.

Obviously this doesn't jive with your intentions, considering the accompanying picture and all. But reading "dinosaurs" immediately made me think of parents ... and something about this just feels young, innocent, and tender, like childhood love and kids' imaginations/games. Until the day the brother/sister died and the sun refused to rise. But the one left behind is choosing to imagine again, to experience life to the fullest, even in his/her sadness. And to keep loving the other, even though he/she is physically gone.

That's what I see, anyway.

Mama Zen said...

My God, Shay. This may be the most beautiful, perfect poem you've ever written. And, that's saying a hell of a lot.