Gentle rain
a comfort of sorts
you’re not alone
when it rains
a company of sorts
Do not be dismissive
there are those
who have nothing more
than the rain
at their windows
the wind at their doors
and nothing else
John Lyons
Let it be known
that wherever we go
we are walking
among stars
seen and unseen
and that there are
no limits to the space
around us
and that every silence
is cosmic
and that every declaration
of love rings out
through the universe
and that one day
on some distant planet
who knows how far away
our tender words may be heard
and that the moment
when our bodies first met
the shudder may be felt
in the four corners
of infinity
John Lyons
Silent land
under harsh frost
grass brittle underfoot
all surfaces slip
and slide
the cruel east wind
raucous in our ears
our voices hoarse
as we struggle
to converse before
falling back
into silence
Winter can be
a bare place
intemperate unforgiving
the dark night skies
no consolation
pricked
with the dead light
from distant stars
All this without love
would be true misery
John Lyons
I remember a forest of copper and gold
and wide lakes in which the water lulled
and a radiant blue sky and a bitter wind
and a song that every radio station played
endlessly about leaving and the heart breaking
and I thought that it would pursue me
to the ends of the earth and it did
but I looked closely at the leafless trees
and saw that the buds of new leaves
were there in place ready to burst forth
and it reminded me that nothing dies
no matter how challenged and that life
is endless and love too if it is true
John Lyons
How shall we survive
in the thin-streaming
winter light through
the days of hard frost
when our breath curls
from our mouths
and our skin shivers
We who are born alone
and seek only the company
and acceptance of others
how shall we use our days
to further the pursuit
of warmth and affection
how shall we bring colour
where nature is stripped
to the bone or beneath
the black sky where
shimmering stars fill
that frozen space
We on the wide earth
who do never know
where our steps will end
nor what form it will take
nor by what rules of clemency
our lives’ work will be judged
John Lyons
Once in a while
you may come
to resemble
the portrait I painted
of your youthful face
using principally
burnt umber
upon titanium white
with a hint of cerulean blue
for the eyes
and a trace of red
for the lips set against
a deep cadmium
yellow background
Of course it’s not you
but merely a series of strokes
hints of what you might be
or might were once
mineral and translucent
or opaque and of the earth
and of the sky
the body and soul of you
of what you are here to express
in your thoughts
and words
and in the flesh
It means nothing
as it lies on canvas
and awaits
an appreciative eye
a smouldering mirror
alive with intent
devised with all the warmth
of my hand and deficient
only insofar as it betrays
the limitations of my gift
John Lyons
Beauty ingrained in the soul
that we carry through our time
in the world
and everywhere we invent
a sea and mountains
and deep river valleys and listen
for the changing seasons
our minds bathed in words
We see roses shiver on their stems
gulls cavorting down by the pier
sparrows hopping
from branch to branch
and watch at night
as the stars tell tales
of our lives
and what is beauty
but the mystery of life
the pulse and the beat of breath
on our faces and the sense
of all that may happen
and the memory
of all that has
John Lyons
A beleza enraizada na alma
que carregamos no nosso tempo
no mundo
e em todo lugar inventamos
um mar e montanhas e profundos
vales fluviais e ouvimos
as mudanças das estações
nossas mentes banhadas em palavras
Nós vemos rosas tremer
em suas hastes
gaivotas brincando pelo cais
pardais pulando de galho em galho
e assistimos à noite
enquanto as estrelas contam histórias
de nossas vidas
e o que é beleza
senão o mistério da vida
o pulso e a batida da respiração
em nossos rostos e a sensação
de tudo que pode acontecer
e a memória
de tudo que tem sido
versão de John Lyons
Blue sky reflected
in the blue waters
of the lake
Slow ripples of water
moving upon water
creating rolling waves
of brilliant sunshine
breaking gently
on the shore
here in the lake
where we fished
just after sunrise
before the world awoke
before the heat rose
small fish
with gleaming scales
created from sunlight
fried in a pan
devoured in a flash
and a smack of the lips
John Lyons
Disbelieve the poem
that never stutters
that from the outset
knows where it’s heading
Disbelieve the sense
of certainty
about this and that
the utter complacency
of words that never
require to be unravelled
Disbelieve the poem
that puts the moon
and the stars
on the same page
where butterflies flutter
and roses are red
and love is as straight
as a die
Disbelieve the poem
that gives all
it has to give
at first glance
without a glimmer
of seductive mystery
Turn instead to the oyster
within its shell
that awaits you on a bed of ice
with its natural pearls
that the eyes devour
that the tongue covets
and the delicate
silence of love that tugs
at the orchestral strings
of the unbroken heart
John Lyons
She was the voice
of the night
the voice of the day
she was the voice
of the sea
she was the voice
of the wind
she was the voice
of the moon and stars
she was the voice
When the world
was silent
and no light shone
she was the voice
in my ear
she was the words
on my tongue
and all the words
I did not speak
I saved for her
in my heart
sun or shine
she was the voice
that filled my thoughts
in a universe
awash with noise
she was the only voice
I heard
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 