Spinning
North of the equator
while you sleep
I sit in the South Land
autumn sun
with my pen to weave
words into dreams
for you when you wake
and I am kissed by sleep
Awake you pick
up your quill
to dip in ink
and scribe
what is your will
in spring
for me to read
when I yawn from slumber
Seasons and night
between us lie
who sleep and wake
north and south
of the spinning
tropics line
yet words that are writ
by pen and quill
stamp not now
on turning time
yet all is awake
in its season
See also:
000 Seasons: Table of Contents


Comments: 26
Summerily yrs,
But now you're in a summer morning while I shiver in winter's evening.
Magi
P.S. How on earth did you find this so quickly? A moment ago there were over 300 'articles for me' and I'm struggling to find myself. Guess because I'm sitting here in the dark.
Magi
I found your poem quickly on the new "My Gather" page which lists both the most recent articles and the most recent comments by people in my network. No magic, just software.
And now it's off to start the day with a $)(%*)$*@&* run. Never fun (until it's over). G'night...
Magi
Magi
Thank you for the generous comment.
Magi
Magi
I've gotten out of bed one coffee ago and am getting my mind into gear here in the future. Its already the 20th July here while it is still the 19th July in the past of North America.
Magi
Magi
Magi
in its season"
Those two lines are especially lovely. Yes, the seasons are different. Isn't it wonderful to have gifts from one season while we are experiencing a totally different season?