The Violet Hour
Stephen Mead
First starting from the backyard
then lining boulevards from neighborhood
to neighborhood all over this city,
the blossoming trees are fountains-----
cherry, apple, Bradford pear,
held in their cascade
to illuminate this twilight.
Take in this scene hovering,
hummingbird-eye, sparrow,
the streetlamps a vision of hush
amid petals and scents wafting slowly.
What a voyage they create
with so many of us caught at peace
with the enchantment, from our harbors
of porches and decks, lifting hands like handkerchiefs
caressing, god speeding the air currents cargo
rich with Spring at another evening's end.
Screen windows, doors, now deepen
with shadows purple aware of how nothing
in time is really still here where the three muses
meet the three furies, the three fates.
Mother Earth changes her faces with these moods
and tides Sister Moon waxes and wanes with,
balanced on harmony, the smallest blessing realized
heart-clear in the souls-sphere, as Nature's means
to find a reason to go on
another day, another night.
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Stephen Mead is an Outsider multi-media artist and writer. Since the 1990s he’s been grateful to many editors for publishing his work in print zines and eventually online. He is also grateful to have managed to keep various day jobs for the Health Insurance. Currently he is resident artist/curator for The Chroma Museum, artistic renderings of LGBTQI historical figures, organizations and allies predominantly before Stonewall.
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