Holiday with the Dead

What's all this dead table talk?

The angel chimes start to ring.
A bit of music fills us and
Everyone stops to listen.

Who discards the hand
forgetting the attachment?

Ring on,
angels!

The room is full of this swirling dance
Spreading abundantly upon our pallets
The harmony of years gone by.

Yes Peyton, Yes Anjoli,
it is a miracle.

©-Sonja J Johnston 27-Jan-09 (to all who have passed that are still with us Diggs ValleyRoad, Hamilton, Va.)

Harbingers

All of you with heart songs to sing
of girly things of flowers and rings
Getting stronger with the tides and the winds.

The orchards sing to the child running wild.
Lavender, juniper, and white lilies in the grove.

Step aside a beat
as the fiddler fern speaks
Dreams drift, soft and low.

Angels all a glow.
Lavender Sprite,
Lily white touch,
And the scent of juniper upon my nose.

Asleep the sparrow, for morning's yet to wake.
I can hear her stick across the chain linked fence;
a miner's mile past the graves.

68,000 miles the earth moves every hour.
They have their stopwatch on time
for our musical design.

Never lose the harbinger that sits with you.
Never cast away the sail.

Memories, like honey bees
Make things sweet when allowed.

Never stop believing, you can take the dream home.
There is fate as we awake.

The conversations that took place while we slept
hold tight within the sparks.

Be observant of the shadows, in the narrows,
and in the curious things you spy.

They sing of apples, peaches, and pumpkin.
And if they ask me, I will hunt them a mountain.

© 10-Nov-12 Sonja J. Johnston for Nate and Joff