when the moon's chill comes ashore

when the moon's chill comes ashore

willows bow with grace

inside the confines of my yard

one i was sordidly proud of

when time stood still

before friends embarked on a journey upward

willows now bow in prayer

and weep for the young

who never grasped the roots of age

shallow ground and dark longing

all that is left,

a tree finds shelter in the night

when the moon disappears

but the sound of tears

branches out into my soul

grass in the morning

dew driven to lean away from the sun

rustles in a sad wind

what leaves were left

book passage to winter

a ship of sacred hearts

sail to the universe on the other side of the world

hoping heaven isn't flat,

that the underside of life's meaning

has angels hibernating

just waiting to be recalled

when spring brings all of our loves

back to port

back to where the willow

peers upward

imagines wings.

erin-cilberto

11/11/17

Reviews

[steppenwolf]

I paged back into some of your not so recent writings and I find that I especially like this poem. For one thing I lke poems about nature. There are many lovely and questioning phrases you use that make me kind of odd, but in a good way. If this were a photograph instead of a poem it would definitely be in black and white, full moon, deserted beach, trees bent in the wind.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i especially love black and white photos, they have such character...thank you for your words, Leslie.
j.

[Alfred Kukitz]

You can lull a reader into a divine world where a man’s soul speaks in cadences of whisper and chime.

Regards,
Al

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, kind sir.
j.

[CD Campbell]

I think this was sad and dark. I don't have anything witty to say, but it definitely moved me in a way I can't explain. I like the nautical twist of death and the rebirth which comes with spring. CD

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, CD.
j.

[kitty]

Sad and willowy feel to this one. I once walked along the banks of The River Avon with the same feeling looming over me. Thank you for sharing this!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and thank you for sharing you story...sounds like a beautiful walk...

j.

[kitty]

Being in Shakespere's birthplace is always nostalgic to this writer. Have a good day!

[ms. barrie]

exquisite ink you spilled...reading this i cannot help but be reminded of plath’s “the moon and the yew tree” —— the starkly poignant imagery and dictation are simply captivating, and i absolutely love this write

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your very kind review, barrie---

j.

[h d e rushin]

this poem, as the pronation of Frost, where nature bends forward "hoping heaven isn't flat", is so pure. So unpressurized by the reflexology of relationships or the he-said-she-said of yesterdays providence.

You almost made me.......in fact, after that second stanza, I was in full face tears. The weight of social or economic imposition. the application of force to something by something else in direct contact with it../ the finest lines ever written by an American under any circumstances..is

just wonderful ........../dana

[jacob erin-cilberto]

your words are really encouraging, dana...i had many doubts about this piece...thank you...
j.

[Onyia-Ali, Kingsley Chu..]

Really thought provoking. The structure, content superb. "...the young who never grasped the roots of age..." Well said, Sir.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words...

j.

[Jimmy Yetts]

We pass through life virtually scale-eyed; what we don't notice--especially as young people--would fill a universe.
Lovely, thoughtful and profoundly sad.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, Jimmy.
j.

[Paul Bell]

Sordidly poignant.
It was only yesterday I was young.
The tree was tall.
Love changed like the leaves falling.
The tree became wiser.
But I died and didn't notice.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

geez, i think i like your version better...
thanks for your words, Paul...
j.

[Ardra]

a tree finds shelter in the night
when the moon disappears

but the sound of tears
branches out into my soul

mmmm paints a pic of a person watching the moon disappear..and the life changing.... the seasons of love being recalled... the pain of lost friends still stinging... still waiting for life to show some miracles...even in the silent night of endless prayers escaping the soul... to find what he is searching for...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your understanding words, Galadriel.
j.