For the sake of words

to achieve what is possible
           in words and in actions
a little light in the darkness
           a little sense out of the tangle of words
it is madness not to be drawn to beauty
           and wilful cowardice
not to be drawn to the truth
           there are many ways in which to see
but most important when seeing
           is that it be an act of love

to see through the wiles of winter
           to know that summer will come again
that the cool winds will fade
           that the energy of sunlight
will once again ruddy my complexion
           the slothful mind will stir from the dust
that tone of light
           full of remembrance

from a pile of burning leaves smoke rising
           pear apple peach and plum in abundance
the infinite kindness of his hands
           that drew roses up from the soil into the light
the appetite for beauty never died nor for love
           see how the evening cools as the sun goes down
the silent air full of the hum of mosquitoes
           words that appear to glide along a sentence
cuckoo song and a full moon
           a fitting end to the day

John Lyons

Nakedness

Only the human species
           knows what it is
to be naked
           to get naked
to have knowledge
           of one’s body
or of another’s
            : an intimacy
of thought and feeling
           so common and yet so private
the making of love
           just as a world is made
a love-creation
            the rich cluster of charms
in the human body
           congress the primeval process
a love-life fed with language
           with words and whispers
into her slumbering ear
           and in loving we bear
the ultimate witness
           to ourselves
gestures pared back
           to the essential
so as to reach the intrinsic truth
           buried within us
to fall in love
           is to rise up

John Lyons

Point and counterpoint

Through the mind’s eye
           a world captured and contained
the beating blood of memory
           of sunrise and sunset
blue skies and tempestuous seas
           it’s all there
every perception
           every failure to perceive
a mind sometimes lost
           within the space of its own space
genuflections before Venus
           scorn for the purple moon
the dreary rise and fall
           of the tides

so many worlds within the world
           all held together by love’s syntax
such that a feather
           could knock me down
sweet solace of love
           beyond the lace
the nakedness of another world
           into which I am ushered
the single mind
           of perishable beauty
a tongue that mimics my murmurs
           with gleeful abandon

I carry this world within my head
           I carry this love within my heart
I am my own dishevelled destiny
           a floating consciousness
within which roses and nightingales
           and swallows and peonies
clamour for my attention
           the inventing head
and that never-ending voice
           the voice of all felt things
of every affirmation
           and every doubt
love of all love
           that longs to feel
her burnt breath on my cheek
           to light a taper
within the cathedral of her soul
           to be her celebrant for all time
to ride the muscle
           of that turbulent sea
point and counterpoint
           to her eternal sighs

John Lyons

A world filtered

a world filtered
           through so many minds
a world expressed
           by so many tongues
an inflected beauty
           caught at moments
down the ages
           the rise and fall
of the wind
           rain or shine
the seasons
           that blow hot and cold
the face of the earth
           constantly renewed
a blackbird seen
           through a poet’s window
the long shadow
           of the once proud rose
put to the sword
           now drooping in the dust

everywhere
           the thrust of time is felt
urging us on and holding us back
           the lucidity of its to and fro
the soft patter of seconds
           that whiles away our days
the frail tissue of memories
           all that we hold dear
all that we love
           all that we cannot live without
the beauty of a sunset
           that slips below the horizon
and at night the incandescence
           of Venus above a watery moon

Look then to a love
           that transcends it all
press her flesh to your flesh
           obliterating all but the moment
poetry is the sacrament of praise
           love her and praise her forever

John Lyons

Pigeons

a flock of white and grey pigeons
           perhaps thirty or more
flying in low circles back and forth
           over a piece of open ground
close to the railway line
           and as they veer into the sunlight
the white pigeons
           are suddenly illuminated
and for an instant their wings
           are the wings of angels
bearers of the holy spirit
           testimony to the beauty
of creation on this frosty
           afternoon

and all around me
           are signs and signatures
the greeting in an infant’s eyes
           two lovers on a park bench kissing
a desiccated rose that has struggled
           through the winter months
to remain attached to its stem
           the pace of life that goes on and on
and the hope I harbour
           that she will never let me down

John Lyons

Refreshment

Wake to a world
           gripped by a hard frost
birdsong and the sound
           of dogs barking
just to keep warm :
           the simplicity of the sun
will soon melt the ice
           and with it the dark
unconscious shapes
           of the night will fade

the lover that lies within us
           will be emboldened
to venture forth once again
           into the imagined life
in which music is borne
           on the west wind
and in which the clear
           delineations of desire
will declare the soul
           to be free of betrayal

observe time’s notations
           the dignity of swans
on the silver waters
           buds about to burst forth
an early harvesting
           of materials to build nests
that longing for the first
           sight of daffodils
for the immaculate texts
           of nature to be refreshed

John Lyons

Last night

Last night the stars
           in the pitch black sky
brighter than ever before
           and the space deeper
the silence too
           wondering how love
can be sustained
           over such distances
: and through the silence
            endless radio waves
from the origins of time—
           all things that have beginnings
have ends too
           even a universe is not for ever

so where does that leave love
           and how can love survive
can a kiss stretch around the moon
           can a caress rescue the faltering word
can the unutterable abyss of absence
           ever be filled : what gestures 
will bind two hearts together
           in defiance of time and space ?

John Lyons

So what

There are no shortcuts
           no feigning paradise
nothing comes from nothing
           neither are there
accidental roses
           or transient loves

against the frost
           there is the warmth
the light in her eyes
           affirmation in her kindness
life is deliberate
           even though we struggle
to attain perfection
           such as it exists in this world

life is a knowledge
           an accumulation
a construct
           and nobody is free
from error
           all are beholden
to forgiveness
           the gloss on our actions
soon wears thin
           but love endures
as the rose is paragon
           be steadfast
life is a visitation
           a discovering
a walk in the park
           keep your wits about you
and never forget her
           nor let her forget you

John Lyons