The First Night of Fall
By Christopher Longoria
Hear me this night
for this night i will be delivered
into the hands of a peaceful solitude.
A silent surrender
before a city’s chaos
and body politic
that in its rush to finish forgets
there is no end.
My consolation comes
when its dusty eyes close
and the light purple morning gathers
the ground
no longer shakes with the stampede
of greed, lust, and poisons of great escape
but this moment does not last
The Clock succeeds overall
remembrances of the past flash
and i gather as morning
this first night of fall.
i cannot reason well with others
i understand their consequences as gifts
and their falsenesss of face and lawless laws
to be proof of the need of inward pause
the value of the listener is betrayed
the poet encouraged to speak in great breadth
but any heartfelt utterance therein
becomes fodder for the machine, ambivalent logic
pointless as blowing air into the open sky.
There, the momentum
laps against the edge
of a mechanized mind
the city chews itself raw
the soul goes blind
home is found in anxiety, chatter
heavy metal cracks concrete
where is the clarity in clamour?
i stand
my face in autumn rain
smell it against the ground
Peacefulness settles in
a path is found
clear steps of light water
truths of invisible sounds
a storm’s evidence;
jewels in the listeners crooked crown.
This moment does not last
but a vision of the path forever will
i will walk and plant seeds
with the knowledge of every kill
i will realign myself
when in the air i sense the first scent of fall
----- i will listen -----
i will not rush or push
or force a friend
or finish for
there is no end
i will, in peace, wait for the rain to begin.