Sleep shakes out into Morgenland
— land of morning —
stubby doves break the fast of silence
with kwurr-kwurrs and woo-coos,
sift the grass for themes to nourish
lilting songs to fill the cracks of dawn
and beat off blue-jacketed jays'
rockfest of distractions.
Magnolias blossom in Abenland
— land of afternoon —
its mood rising to the velvety blue-black
of ravens' shimmery long-lined backs.
Storms are coming, the sparrows
suddenly massing, tufted heads tucked in
close to wait out the cloud-clash,
the plaint of rain on fevered blades gone brown.
Soon the all-clear, borne on a live-wire streak
of dew-nipped wings, the sharp bead of eyes
thrilling to feed in the Land der Nacht
— land of night —
the hoot of echoes in a clearing
just below the upraised roof of the sky
become a decrescendo of swooping owls
taking up their night's watch
of stars splitting the dark like gone-mad cells
making work of new life.
© 2010 Maureen E. Doallas. All Rights Reserved.