silver tears

when day is done and light fades,
when silence hides behind the moon.
when silver tears trace the garden path
into the wooded realm.

into the dark of soaring menace,
into the enchanting choir
of soaring watchmen, ancient and wild.
their branches reach for me.

beneath the canopy of needles,
within the tangle of ferns,
inquiring eyes look on in stealth.
they watch and wait.

walking on the curving mud path
with switchbacks and steep inclines,
direction loses meaning.
ahead I push into the unknown

until I reach the overlook,
the vista at the cliff-face,
spanning the gorge beyond
with meandering river below.

red and blue kiss in an orange embrace
as the clouds halo the moon.
silver tears meet mine
as I cry out to God.

15 May 2010 by Glen Alan Woods