All That is Hidden

How do years submit themselves as new,

become subject to all that came before as beautiful.

Words become life, entreating her as they do,

with a question, revealing all that is hidden in a man.

Such things are sweet, what is ever wonderful,

to love inside life's coincidental plan.

Either hope or tears greet the morning,

discovering an exit from behind these mortal veils.

A face is remembered there, without warning,

that forever shines upon his face like the midday sun.

A name lives on the wind, filling life and sails,

the place where the journey is begun.

To touch her hands is to touch the sky,

together, a world of dreams to reach out and gather.

Such excitement could teach new hearts to fly,

to become as children again, again to all things new.

Hers are colors of beauty,  her delicate matter,

and sparkling like the morning dew.

Silence becomes the music of the night,

a place to listen for some kindred heart in the dark.

To awaken again in her joy and rising bright,

in time's discourse, she never dims or ever grows old.

Above the trees and meadow, his solemn oath,

to love her dearly beyond words untold.

Brian Francis Hudon

December 31, 2019 

Love's Favor

Somehow fear has lost its only friend,

and doubt wanders aimlessly around the days.

Our friendship now should know no end,

how much sweeter days, for our knowing each other.

Days now seek my heart and mend my ways,

like two old lovers lost in one another.

If I might again be seen as a stranger,

what hopes upon the empty canvas should fall?

More mystery, than some empty danger,

close your eyes and dream again with your heart.

Listen, that you might hear fortune's call,

to see what favors love might impart.

The conversation, love's consolation,

begins the new dialogue, binding our obscurity.

A tale of silent words and of quiet elation,

we search for who we are to become, who we are.

In the quiet details of our hidden curiosity,

you are my secret light, my unseen star.

A quiet whisper in the morning mist,

a good day, dear friend, in early morning light.

Touch my hand, that I know I still exist,

to know I am who I am and so I might always be.

I am carried away in so many words I write,

a starry eyed dreamer on the starry sea.

Brian Francis Hudon

July 2, 2019

Father

I chart my own course among the stars,

to travel among the celestial fields I've sown.

I will write my own sounds upon the bars,

which live upon these pages to be often heard.

You were forever absent when I was alone,

were never sought when conflict stirred.

Not once a spoken a word of wisdom,

only the vacant silence of your indifference.

I was the prince and king of my kingdom,

the only heir in my private world of discovery.

The lack of your memory was deliverance,

and my own love of life and my mystery.

I've long been a man of a father's age,

and you, no more real than when I was a child.

I am my own man and the world my stage,

and I'm the child of wonder and imagination.

You are but a shadowy figure in the wild,

an unknown antagonist, an accusation.

Father, what I will not become is you,

should my life and love so bless me that way.

I shall not do those things you would do,

leave both a woman and a child like a stranger.

Before all which I love so, I turn you away,

with indifference,  rejecting my anger.

Life is beautiful as it comes into being,

it finds comfort in the face of one we love so.

Strength is more in giving than in needing,

there is but one to whom I own true affection.

Thus hope fills my heart and mind as I go,

she fills my life,  offering me direction.

Brian Francis Hudon

June 11, 2019

Forever Be

Such is life in a racing heart,

hidden passions and desires of color.

Dreams and reason are torn apart,

in lives so interesting before the curtain.

My days are now larger and smaller,

inside things much less certain.

A love like music is the night,

in a melody into the midnight lights.

As bright as eyes in daytime light,

is the star which ever shines upon mine.

And to closed eyes it still delights,

as heart and memory combine.

So here stands my confession,

hidden in my every unspoken word.

Waiting upon my own conviction.

I would be found guilty of everything;

Yet hope lies patient, undeterred,

in what tomorrow might bring.

Cares and joy become escape,

as you release the sun upon my face.

In my mind is an image and shape,

mapping a way into a new life's features.

Old landscapes vanish with a trace,

and with them tired creatures.

To a newer day should I awake,

with trust and truth still by my side.

further with journeys still to take.

Neither heaven or earth could shake me,

not while love and faith in me abide,

and by you I should forever be.

Brian Francis Hudon

October 17, 2018

A Light in the Darkness

No need to look to the night sky,

or to nebula and light years of dreams.

My hope is nearer than this and why,

why the sun, why the stars, why the night?

Beauty is more than the face it seems,

and more than hope or fair delight.

Love and our desire, these we seek,

happiness and laughter, love's illusion.

Days are short and the tides are weak,

as hearts beat beneath a September moon.

Time wanes before a shallow delusion,

racing before the night and so soon.

In warmth of flesh a steady breath,

a pulse of contentment and friendship.

Honor and trust, before life or death,

come the rather ordinary trials of the day.

Our journey as upon some round ship,

upon a sea of stars in the Milky Way.

Now all my roads have led to one,

the focus my one and only destination.

Would I rest there, I would be done,

and find rest from my travels in you alone.

Could I be worthy in your estimation,

to find myself once more your own.

Brian Francis Hudon

September 3, 2018

Greater than Words

A new day and the cold turns inward,

some untold story keeps turning in my mind.

Anguish and resentment moving forward,

we return to strength, the source of an inner light.

Love is a burning sun, somewhere the mind,

waiting there for my heart's delight.

The mind filled with endless concern,

judgement testing limits, trying our patience.

Am I the same? If not, how might I return,

how might the days go back to those yesteryears?

I linger here inside my ever fading presence,

too distant even for shedding tears.

Our practice makes perfect in theory,

but our hearts and minds experience the pain.

Living day after year, hearts grow weary,

and soon look quietly for strength in one another.

When all else has faded away, I shall remain,

finding hope, one day after another.

My trust is here and with you always,

from the beginning, yesterday and tomorrow.

Listen closely to a heart, hear what it says,

sometimes silence says more than any single word.

Your beauty and joy is greater than sorrow,

the sweetest heart I have ever heard.

Brian Francis Hudon

January 19, 2018

If There Were No Stars

If there were no stars there would be you,

and music that my heart would soar across the land.

If my life is beautiful and more than this too,

I would be an eagle in the night flying into the day.

A beautiful heart sings out to take your hand,

but not so if my nature would have its way.

Beauty is not found in the mask or mirror,

but in truth and the openness of the spoken word.

So soon I would face any waiting task or fear,

and anxiously turn my face to the moon or the sun.

And if beyond my anxieties my heart is heard,

than perhaps at last my true life has begun.

Brian Francis Hudon

June 26, 2017