Caught on the cusp

The year is slipping
           away from me
time through the hands
           the leaves turning
petals falling
           the nights longer
the days too short
           and dust descending

who knows what
           tomorrow’s moon
will bring
           or what tests
the coming winter
           will contrive
what brave new world
           awaits us all

I look to the immaculate stars
           to the puffed white clouds
that pass aimlessly
           I lean against the parapet
looking out across
           the sleepless river
an eternity condensed
           between its banks

and within me I feel
           the tangled flow of love
days hours whole years
           in which beauty and truth
nurtured the alchemy
           of my desires

One day
           pardon will be granted
and with it
           inviolate peace
and with that 
           rest : wordless rest

John Lyons