Tag: night

A Tiny Piece of Night Sky

On By Anna EastlandIn Poetry6 Comments

Right now I don’t wear mourning black

because as I told the kids before the funeral,

Grandpa loved the bright colours of gardens

and flowers in the sunshine,

so dress for him.

But I do wear around my neck

a black necklace studded with tiny stars

—piece of night sky stolen by faeries—

to remind myself in all dark moments

to seek the sparkle.

It’s not a bright, dawn-rosy piece of Heaven

but a scrap of far-off night sky,

piercingly cold and beautiful,

the kind you look up at in silence

longing for the things that do not perish.

My heart thumps near my necklace,

aching to burst forth from my chest

and reach this forever with you,

beating its warm little drum

to the echoes of eternity.

It Is Worth It

On By Anna EastlandIn Poetry2 Comments

It is worth it to stay up half the night

to see the misty moon

disappear and re-emerge behind the scattered clouds

that drift like silver ribbons across the sky.

It is worth it to peer up at the quiet stars

and hear above the faint roar of a few cars

on the highway far below

the gentle hoot of an owl.

It is worth it so see the silhouette of trees

standing like living paintbrushes

solemn and still

against the pearly grey night sky.

It it worth it to feel the summer air

on my skin at midnight

and know that the goosebumps

are more from awe

than the slight cool of the breeze.

It is worth it to stay up half the night

to be in love with the ever-changing sky

and write it poetry.

Creation is so beautiful—

my heart is bursting with it!

Can anyone feel so happy as I am

alone with the moon,

in the company of memories?

Feather Quills

On By Anna EastlandIn Poetry, travel1 Comment

When the sun sinks into the sea

–a candle snuffed out suddenly–

the silhouettes of palm trees darken

against the fading colours of the sky.

Their leaves become black as crow feathers–

old-fashioned feather quills

writing poetry upon the earth’s dome

among the shooting stars.

My brother Winston took this pic of our brother Monti’s back yard.

Island Lullaby

On By Anna EastlandIn Poetry, Uncategorized2 Comments

In Hawaii, the sun sinks into the sea

like a burning golden coin–

you can actually watch it slip below the surface.

The clouds show off their colours:

peachy orange and cotton candy pink,

dark grey accentuated by strips of shining gold.

After it’s done, the sunset hurrah,

deep darkness falls quickly.

The winding island roads are bathed in blackness.

Everything fades away except ohana, family,

the small circle of warmth

around you and and your loved ones,

sipping wine and sharing stories.

With no streetlights to prolong the day,

it soon feels so late and sleepy.

Bed beckons after a day on the beach.

You’re ready for the windy palm tree lullaby,

that endless rustling of phantom rain

that is simply leaves swaying in the starlight.

The crickets convince you to close your eyes and listen.

“Be soothed, be soothed,” they sing.

“Soon enough the sun will return…

rooster will be sure to let you know.

Early and often he will call:

‘Get up! Get up! A new adventure begins!’ ”

The snow lies still

On By Anna EastlandIn PoetryLeave a comment

The snow lies still upon the rooftops.

From a few houses

smoke rises in a misty haze

and the streetlights blaze

like midnight suns.

All is silent

except the steady breathing of my toddler

whom I’m rocking back to sleep.

In the upper bedroom

across the street

insomnia reigns

and the blue lights of the television

flash out a noiseless dance.

But the snow lies still upon the rooftops

and silence greets my sleepy glance outside.

The Persistant Insomniac

On By Anna EastlandIn Poetry, Writing5 Comments

Late at night

her eyes are wide open

as two full moons

beaming out in the dark.

Inside fires burn

flames flicker and refuse

the stillness of sleep.

 

She gets up

grabs her book

a sweater

a snack

and keeps a late night kitchen vigil

with insomnia…

–this date with quiet–

delicious silent solitude.

 

She feeds her soul

with bread and words,

then rubs her fingers together,

lights the surrounding gloom with sparks

and writes fire!

Contemplation by Moonlight

On By Anna EastlandIn Poetry, Ponderings4 Comments

Outside the moon smiles lopsided

ever laughing, ever the same

despite my foibles, my losses

my little tragedies and defeats,

the moon continues in it’s ever changing sameness,

shining down like a flashlight 

from eternity,

each difference but a dance with shadows.

And while sirens blare 

and strange cars drive by 

on late night voyages,

the cool air caresses me with the same

light breath and the stars quietly proclaim 

“We are forever.”

Can it be that I, too,

despite my little daily battles—

the exorbitant dishes, the laundry piles that heave and grow

like monsters animated by dust and finger-paint, 

the millionth cup of spilled juice,

the sweet stickiness of the table after pancakes—

am somehow part of this cycle of sameness

which is a gateway to eternity?

that through these daily things

and my yes to the “now”

to the goodness of each day

I am also saying yes

to eternity?

An amen which fills the heart

with joy unquenchable..

The moon looks down 

through the cool night air

upon my littleness 

and laughs, “Yes!”

Watering Flowers by Moonlight

On By Anna EastlandIn Poetry1 Comment

  

Tonight the evening air is dusky

and has a faint smell of smoke

as if someone was stoking their fire

on this warm May night

The slightly bulging half-moon 

beams down yellow 

and sleepy like me 

I seek poetry in the shadows 

and realize the smokiness

is the peppery scent of purple lupins

spicing the dusk with their presence 
   

Lingering in the quiet evening

I take pity on my planter pots

and water my flowers by moonlight

lest in the heat of the day I forget 

A little bath for the basil

a big sip for the tomatoes

and lots—with love—

for my Josephine flower

Misty Moon

On By Anna EastlandIn Poetry, Stillbirth7 Comments

  
There’s a misty werewolf moon tonight
and it reminds me of a poem I wrote you

 just over 6 months ago

before you were born,

while you were still with us. 
The stars twinkle reassuringly 

in the cold night sky,

but the gloominess of this moon

covered in snatches of thin clouds 

like scattered veils,

brings me to tears.
Perhaps it shines brighter from your side

—up in Heaven—

with no clouds in the way. 
One day, honey, promise you’ll show me.