Dnext

October 27, 2024 11:14am

Song for Ancient Days

Darkness falls.
Speak to me, my love,
across the stillness of a pensive night.
I wait to hear the stars
call, from the past,
a mystery of grief, not yet resolved;
nor understood,
but carried through the void,
a silent paean.

I am torn;
never whole, my heart
has, ever, wandered frontiers of night's dream,
to seek the part it lost,
and, ever, sought,
since hours when mourning eyes grew dark, with pain.
Its deeper fear,
to enter, once again,
Dante's despair.

Must we sleep,
hidden, beneath stars,
that know no boundaries, and see us joined?
Must wounded hands not feel
the flowing blood,
that is our guarantee, we will not break –
though fated, yet,
to stand, alone, on shores,
and unfulfilled?

This, my vow;
with my hands, outstretched,
in watching tears, deep hushed, across the sky:
this life, as one too far,
will be the end
of endless searching for a home, long loved;
our hearts, as one,
will join, to claim their due,
and live, again.

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Simon Ashcroft

July 27, 2024 10:50pm

Firewalker

Stars,
tell me of the torture of the night;
of how, beyond perception, before time,
a crucible of violent flame was lit,
that gave you life,
ignited holy fire.

Speak,
of being cast, lonely, to the void;
how, in a greater mind, you swung through space,
a thurible of incence, smoking charms
across the sky,
for beauty's sake, alone.

Sing,
incantations of strange alchemy;
how you became the forging furnace blaze,
through endless deaths, the anvil of Time's craft,
to build vast worlds,
bring light to living eyes.

Be,
to me – to all, glad to suffer love –
a kiln, to burn this clay to rich-fired glaze;
that all, who see the jewels of your hands,
may honour home,
and know life's greater fire.

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Simon Ashcroft

March 13, 2024 9:55pm

Breakers

The cry of the sea, such a lonely call,
as we walk on these stormy shores.
Soft voices, afar, are heard on the breeze,
weeping, alone, full of watery dreams,
we might hardly dare to recall.

The cry of the sea, such a distant call,
as we walk on our land-locked shores.
But our hearts will fill, with a storm that beats
cloud, heavy with thoughts, through the space between,
to hammer our stony walls down.

The cry of the sea, a passionate call,
as my soul swells the fires of hell
through the frozen void of delinquent heaven,
to shatter, on flames of a love, free given,
and claim it, again, as its own.

The cry of the sea, an intimate call,
of a tide that consumes hard land.
Proud mountains will crumble to cliffs, and fall,
at the ocean’s kiss, that devours them all,
but demands no more than it’s owed.

*Thoughts that emerged watching the spring tide at Porthcawl

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Simon Ashcroft

February 11, 2024 11:52am

Cycles in Your Depths

Winter has its altar, scarcely lit
by stars, as hoar-frost jewels, calling forth
hard light, within stark, crystal ice, and stone.
Build with me a fire; here, let us sit
in silent worship of this sacred deep,
where storms and calm unite, where spirits soar
beyond this world.

Spring blossoms hardly dare raise a head
into a sky, that darkness won’t forsake,
for fear of threats of cold, prospects of fire.
Must we be recalled into the day,
to suffer worlds rejoiced by garish light,
forgetful of the mysteries we keep
in silence, locked?

Summer’s scorching heat burns not so deep
as night-borne stars, that seek beyond my soul,
but brings, to melting earth, deceptive ease.
Hear me call, through hours of precious dark,
to share our heartbeat, lest a skittish day
should lose our grip on sure reality,
and leave us, bare.

Autumn’s promise sings, impatiently,
an invocation to encroaching dark,
to manifest its blessing from the void.
Come, with me, gather wood, and rebuild
a pyre, to celebrate the sinking sun,
and welcome, to the diamond glint of stars
that call us home.

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Simon Ashcroft

January 29, 2024 11:38pm

Well Met, my Love

Deep shadows in the canyon,
unmoved by howling gale,
lie hollow, hiding empty, sadder thoughts.
Could all the passion of this wilderness
move my soul to light? Self doubt,
will ever seek the void.

A mountain crag, my vantage,
speaks a watching eagle,
with eyes to pierce the heart that, silent, waits.
No storm too violent for such wings of strength;
no night to dark for vision
to see hidden shadows.

Within the tree lined valley,
pale and frightened, standing,
to steadfastly repay the raptor’s gaze.
Eyes that glinted, empty, in the ice lands,
with softer fire, ignited,
will catch a nervous heart.

Swift to comfort, on cold wind,
I fly to meet this plea;
to shield from glaring sunlight pure hope’s form.
Run with me on the air; I will shelter,
these coal-black, glowing embers
of soul's rekindled fire.

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Simon Ashcroft

January 27, 2024 7:21am

Seeking My Dawn

Across the night,
voluptuous, of starry decadence,
my mind, at last, released, flies as it will,
with wings that span all vastness in one beat,
and feathers, burning, golden, in the void.

Hide not that heart
of beauty, more than mortal flesh may bear.
I, a hunter of the velvet darkness,
but waiting sacrifice, worship the blade
by which my ancient fate will claim me, whole.

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Simon Ashcroft

January 22, 2024 1:40pm

Lost

Wasted, mountain moor,
where hard night holds, fast,
shadows, that confuse my crossing paths
into a maze, I cannot navigate.

No torchlight, guiding
homeward, takes me on,
through darkness, thick, which I never sought,
whilst frigid gales howl secrets of my soul.

Fierce, screams this stormwind,
to provoke my fear
and kill the flames ice could never quench
when melting in a warmth I long for, now.

I see no refuge,
save a rocky mass -
a granite skull, beckoning, that grins
for me to freeze, again, in Khayyam's hell.

I won't walk that way,
but bear, still, harsh teeth
of bronze, which I may wield as I will,
against this power of bloodless, tempting cold.

Let me tend my fire -
if needs be, alone,
and for one span more, 'til life revolves,
to give, at last, our glory in the sun.

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Simon Ashcroft

October 3, 2023 11:05pm

Inundation

Traveller, walking mountain paths,
with sharp flints strewn, as shards of broken dreams;
the sun beguiles the sky.
Storm clouds are gathered.
Why does your heart dam tears within dry stone?

Would you rest, walking valley roads?
Along these rain-whipped highlands, life may soar
upon the violent air.
Fear must not impart
desire to wall these tides of weeping love.

Storm does not respect choking stone.
Your heart lies, shattered, by strange tempest’s roar -
a soft call, whispered, clear.
Let a flood break free;
love’s long desire to sing upon the hills.

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Simon Ashcroft

August 21, 2023 11:58am

Morning Cloak, Evening Veil

Cloud across the mountains
hides enigmatic peaks in ancient tales;
silent song sung through a mystic soul.

Cloud across the twilight,
defied by crescent light, piercing its veil;
hushed, but beckoning - promise of home.

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Simon Ashcroft

August 5, 2023 9:34pm

Llantwit Major

Bare rock,
smooth worn, yet riven of a violent tide;
my seat to face the distant salt-wave roar
across a wide, hard bay
that harbours hidden life between the bones
of earth.

Cold air,
the far sourced bearer of my deep sought news;
link to a soul that flashes through the stars,
across a world of stone
that scarcely seems to give a space for life
to breathe.

Ghost cloud,
hides further shore and hills in mystery;
conceals the sky where dwells our greater selves,
beyond linked hands and hearts –
a universe where all our lives are one,
and touch.

These thoughts
arise within me, born upon the gale,
loud spoken in anarchic cries of gulls,
that scour this silent world
where words die, lost in day’s cacophony,
unheard.

Ocean,
the link of places in this fractured globe,
will sing to us a distance overcome;
air will caress the face
of spirit heights in which we stand as one
on earth.

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