An Endless Sea

I have become this whirlwind, a storm unleashed,

and I am silence and I am love and I am confusion.

The peace in the stars confounds me, releases me,

finding me, in the pages written are an endless sea. 

Alone, always alone in fear and reality, a delusion,

losing the things most near, most dear, decreased.

These time pieces, the days and weeks of the year,

these are darker now, in hours slower and dreary.

What hope that guides a night's delightful dreams,

starry eyed wonder, in celestial rivers and streams.

We are tired and restless and of this world, weary,

so trusting in its splendor and conquering our fear.

Brian Francis Hudon

November 9, 2014

The Stars

A thousand nights of night to wonder and observe,

for these and more the stars delight to tell their story.

A thousand years, wonders and dreams they serve,

mighty works and mightily shining, fires of the deep.

A streak across the heavens, for a moment's glory,

they crease the darkness, deep in our minds of sleep.

In bright eyes, a new vision, clear as winter night,

beneath cloudless scenes we brace for winter's cold.

Be they travelers, wanderers or strangers in flight,

they welcome us and bridge timeless years between.

Ancient and heralded, born for vestments of gold,

though we sleep beneath them, silently and unseen.

Brian Francis Hudon

October 24, 2014

The Joyous Desert

Such sweet separation, distant, gentle and near,

brief occupation, in trust and comfort, endless turns.

Resistant, our desires are patient, friendship dear,

a look between these companions closes many miles. 

A cautious exchange, fear set aside, hope returns,

embracing daring and familiar foolhardy trials.

My two hearts, the brave and the self conscious,

ever at war and unresolved, who would I be this day?

Who I am to others, this timid paradox, cautious;

someone reach across the divide, find the way across.

If only I might recover myself and not be this way,

to fear not satisfaction and the treachery of loss.

These are the joyous deserts of my imagination,

unreconciled with the world, the same with myself.

Every curiosity, in every thought and fascination,

life brings wonder, color and sound, our landscape.

All the grey days of boredom lay upon the shelf,

abused, the final home of obscurity and escape.

Walk with me a while, let fortune take a hand,

set no courses, take the stars as they are, unresolved.

Let no silence dissuade you, I stand where I stand,

by you, trusting, hoping, where the crossroads meet.

An apprehension met and is in certainty dissolved,

herein, a heart is mine to give, stealth and fleet.

Brian Francis Hudon

October 18, 2014

Outsider

A way in, the way out and another strange day,

a stranger to yourself, alone, among the many faces.

Who are you, the wanderer, the isolated way, 

no words when words are needed, is awkward.

Look, that one may look to you, in long embraces,

our hopes silently treated in days now forward.

Shadow of mine, light of my day, familiar now,

a stranger to me, while one fades into a background.

Intrigue of mine, show me the ways, and how,

we are so remote here, to express a rare thought.

One can be perfect and clear, and not so profound,

that joy might unite us, the way happiness ought.

Brian Francis Hudon

October 18, 2014

Beneath a Milky Way Shadow

Another cold night under the cold stars, feeling old,

with old songs, old feelings, looking for something new.

Hearing the words, righting old wrongs, life is cold,

in such wonderful dealings, how shall we bide our time?

Life is the canvas, life is the field, moments are few,

come to me tomorrow, and find words to rhyme.

Twilight, first star, wish upon a wish, I've been there,

will you join me in the last light, first light and in between?

Say you'll be waiting without a heart debating, to share,

a force of nature in gentle carelessness to distract my senses.

Never has this been, in days past, in nothing I have seen,

breaking endless rhythm, the nights of self defenses.

Call me in your sorrow, call my in your joy, call me,

I am quiet but listening and within this eagerness bristling.

In unspoken delight and treasures of the night, the sea,

beneath every new moon, beneath the heavens, it is a riot.

A Milky Way shadow, fireflies and flowers glistening,

let us walk and dream, tread the early autumn quiet.

Remember the snow while we cherish every moment,

remember the days in memories, where everything is new.

Our journey never ends, the foolishness, our discontent,

the light of discovery, the light of reason, without a reason.

Again the memories fade and the occasions are too few,

but we make them, living them, in and out of season.

Brian Francis Hudon

October 10, 2014

The Sterling Hallows

So much fades with time and remains undone,

while the words are written, their order ever new.

Time is the adversary and this our victory won,

setting youth's meteor free for some final conflict.

Even now the days of rest seem heavy and few,

while hope's lines of supply seem lately indirect.

Mystery, the question of man, time, eternity,

a great void  beckons with intrigue and promises.

Beyond the glass, our quiet steps into infinity,

the songs of the grass, in the fields and lofty hills.

A thousand eyes observe, in deeper recesses,

beyond where men are alone and curiosity fills.

The stars have spoken with silent agreement,

night lights and watchmen in faces from the past.

Opportunities lost and broken, souls lament,

for the innumerable faces - standing in shadows.

A fiery brand, a herald, a prophet moving fast,

through the deeper nebulae and sterling hallows.

Nothing is promised here, no words to calm,

our lives are memory, impressions, ancient tales.

Comfort is passage, knowing a soothing balm,

brushing away the luminary legions, like dreams.

We hurry, before the nocturnal canvas pales,

and life relents - to daytime's splendid schemes.

Brian Francis Hudon

August 27, 2014

She

Eyes, where I might know I am not alone,

for reflection, I come, I go, the world is mine.

Every truth is revealed, every secret known,

to risk rejection, here we give the world away.

Our sun is brilliant rising, sweet and benign,

revealed in light, contained in joy, a new day.

I am concealed in her, so deep in longing,

to be one's self is a mystery, joined to another.

So still I am the stranger, yet not belonging,

in the ever present danger, escaping loneliness.

To break myself apart, her eyes, the other,

every concept contained within the vastness.

Our hands, in the darkness for our guide,

a touch, the strength, bear sensation and heat.

The winter nights are not so far and wide,

we do love too much, the experience intense.

Yet this is love, a heart in heart, complete,

without self, without gain, without pretense.

I step into the world now, no longer alone,

all my appearances are lost, and every disguise.

Again, the eyes across the distances, my own,

they are yours, they are mine and they are ours.

I am terrified and comforted. I fear no lies,

being truth's companion in these new hours.

Brian Francis Hudon

August 27, 2014