Glades And Shady Places

Illusionary states of grace
are commonplace as jasmine
scented memories here on this
land – a song thrush sings
its melodies in softwood trees
with limbs embracing timeless
spans of yesterdays

we take our place in grander
schemes beyond the reach of
tenant plans and mortgagees
the madness lent to keep the
peace escapes our avid sanity
in just release – its words are
less than salutary

a radio pours urban angst of
voices chained to emptiness
a harmony that ranks beneath
our conscious span – voices
sing in foreign words without
surcease in every hourly news
release – competing anxiously

our price for being free erodes
each day a nether world invades
– the tranquil glades and shady
places left to rest are wakened
in a raucous chorus deftly
tainted – the birds will flee
and we must surely follow
© 23 May 2008, I. D. Carswell