Quartet

1.

The Girl Who Caught the Sun

When she caught the sun

it felt like the flutter of

butterfly wings in her hands.

She laughed as the sun

spun from her hands and

whirled like mist around her head.

Then darkness fell as

she blew the sun outside

into the night.

2.

The Boy Who Stole the Moon

The boy took the moon and hid it

in his secret box under the bed.

The Moon sat in cold radiance among

magpie feathers, cats-eye marbles, coins and twigs.

Late at night the boy would play with the moon,

his eyes glowing with milky light, his face shadowed.

One night his sister caught him and grabbed the moon,

taking it outside and tossing it into the inky sky.

The boy watched his moon swim among the stars,

elegant as a white swan gliding across a lake.

                   3.

The Woman Who Sang Flowers

It was found when young that

she possessed a voice of ultimate beauty.

When she sang Celtic folk songs

wildflowers would blossom forth on stage,

daisies and kangaroo paw dance around her head.

Sultry, evocative blues would cause

gardenias, magnolia and honeysuckle

to float honey-like about her,

settling slowly about her feet and

hammering the audience with heady perfume.

Songs of loss and longing would create

melancholy wreaths of lilly and iris,

songs of love and pleasure would

burst with yellow blooms of wattle joy

carpeting the stage with orchids and roses,

and her lovers rolled in fields of delight,

caressed by petals and lost in moss.

                   4.

The Man who Found His Song

As a boy there were no songs in his house,

no music,

no tuneful laughter lighting the sky,

only decay,

only death.

He tried to find his music,

his song,

but all he heard was laments,

the wails of the lost,

the groans of despair.

He heard the faint whispers,

he heard the remote melody,

but elusive as a summer butterfly

his song danced away,

a hidden thread in his tapestry.

He grew into a man but still his song hid.

He lived a life of thought and words,

but his song remained a mystery,

a closed flower petals folded

waiting for him to pluck.

It came unexpectedly one day

while casually strolling by the river,

he listened to the wind, the birds,

absorbed the stillness of light,

 then found his song.

It had always been with him

but he had never listened.