There she goes, my Midnight Queen

Blackened mass of fur with golden eyes

More beautiful a creature I have never seen

Tonight’s the night her foes meet their demise

The moonlit streets are her domain

Silently, with ill intent, she prowls

Twilight’s the time for crimes, arcane

Not a soul to witness, but the owls

Flash of fang, and splash of red

Tonight’s first blood is drawn

Hissing, howling, disemboweling,

One less rat will greet the dawn

Crimes unsolved, sins absolved

She gently licks her fur

Destroying all the evidence

In a manner most demure

She slips inside without a sound

Then curls up in my lap

Tomorrow she’ll defend her crown

But now it’s time to nap

In quiet whispers, wisdom flows,

Through the ages, deep roots grow.

Memories linger, shadows dance,

Hearts entwined in fate’s romance.

Time's embrace, a gentle sigh,

Old souls wander, never shy.

In the silence, stories breathe,

Threads of life, we weave, believe.

In a gathering of souls who recognized and sang to mine

I heard echoes of ages long past and words supremely divine.

Whispers of shared secrets ’til then remained undivulged

But in a glimpse of perceived awareness were firmly nudged

Toward a well-honed life able to shed its own sustaining light

Amidst wiser old souls glimmering far brighter in the night.

Picture Courtesy of Jenikmichal, Pixabay

Cynthia Calder, 11.02.24

In a caliginous haze, soft as winter mist,

the cry of a thylacine rises through the trees—

a ghostly wail, long gone but still stirring,

echoing over hills that know her no longer.

The forest is still, save for whispers,

believers' murmurs hanging in the air,

of a world slipping away, of shadows departing.

The quiet is a sign, some say, of separation itself:

this undoing of old things into echoes and winds.

Along the damp riverbanks, bones rest cold

beneath the weight of time,

silent underfoot in the pulse of dark soil,

their shapes blurred but long-staring,

waiting for the day when nothing remains.

A flash in the woods, a pang of memory—

there’s no farewell, only the sense of wiedersehen,

a half-formed thought, that one day we will

meet again in some untouched dusk,

where silence and song are all that’s left.

I see you lurking in my dreams

Stuck between, neither here nor there

What is it you need?

What question should I heed?

What do I say to send you on your way?

You seem so sad, even a bit mad.

Behind grey fog, no, maybe even smog

Broken, of course, you could not stay

You did not need to go

I forgive you, you know

For all the reasons you thought were good

For actions beyond your iron control

For the hurts and pain

And your total distain

Because you are not who once you were

Go! Peace be with you

You’ve earned the right to respect this life

And if by chance our souls should meet once more

I’ll love you still

I always will