Poetry by
S. H. Gilbert

In the Breakthrough
Safety in numbers;
Solitude for one
On the backstreets, some tenor sax
sings soul accompaniment
for everyone on the run.
Two hearts beat like fire
While wounded lovers let it all be,
with a saddened sense of wonder.
Emeralds distant like ice,
Diamonds just behind the eyes;
In the breakthrough, they all wait there
In the secret places waiting to be filled
As the sea always will

Acknowledgements
I jump when I think of what I have seen
Peyote pitbulls in gracious haciendas
Psychotic prophets with unusual agendas
Asking me what I think it all means
As if I had the slightest psychic link
I jump when I think of what I have seen

I jump when I think of what I have dreamed
Kinetic cannibals mixing death's one note
Walking wounded looking for a touchstone antidote
I jump when I think of what I have dreamed

I jump when I think of to what I have clinged
Siren mirages leaving me longing for changes
Unnecessary obsessions in various ranges
Leaving me stripped of all emotional means
I jump when I think of to what I have clinged

I jump when I think of what I have keened
From dreams and visions soaring on the wing
Yet still I can stumble over almost anything
So I really don't know what it all means
I jump when I think of what I have keened

So On and So On
Been burnt at the stake and buried alive
Been born a prince of compromise
Seen oh so much yet still survive
It's a grand adventure we're on

Known too much and not lived to tell
Sown seeds of discontent too well
Grown from each birth to each death knell
It's a grand adventure we're on

And who can say out of the futures of yesterday
Where the mobius leads on
And why not go with the spiritual labor of play
To where the adventure has gone

Sung my share of beautiful songs
Done what was needed to redirect my wrongs
Dowsed the elements with reality's tongs
It's a grand adventure we're on

In the line, twixt laughter and tears,
We still feel the dawn
Little matter the years;
For outside that line,
In the worlds on both sides
We all seek our harmonies
and all feel our tides;
While within our searches
those yearnings we feel true,
We will still reach that line
And love will see us through.

Not Yet, So Soon
You don't know how I ache for you
Though you don't know me
Not yet, so soon
I can dream of holding you tenderly
Though we can't yet feel our touch
I can see the song we know perfectly
'cause we hear our Sight that much

I don't know how you long for me
For I've not met you
Not yet, so soon
You hear just echoes of laughter gently
At the shores of our lives caressing
You know we are mated seamlessly
Just waiting for the proper blessing

You can feel the love I hold dear for you
Though you don't know me
Not yet, so soon
I nearly feel our hands join in surging
Though only in dreams do we touch
While we sing our harmonies in waiting
For we love each other that much......
......not yet, so soon, not yet, so soon.

Moonglade
Don't I know from a mirror in my life?
Aren't your hands familiar and strong?
Like doves in an hourglass, who we are strives to fly
Graceful high and free;
Yearning questions, unanswered.
So we reach for some natural and common source
Which speaks in certainties bright as sunrise
Yet sings pleased in the shadow of nightfall....
For who are we, in these times seeming so unstable
That many wonder if they'll rise from their dinner table
And still some sound says: Of a chaos and wild birth
and from it arise the calm
That soothes and heals after a difficult Summer storm;
This will be your Earthborne Charm......

Concertina Snowfall
Concertina snow tracing branch's tips
Leading alternate paths atop the bark
Trees living within, beneath the renown snow
Deep in its heart, alert
Stucco icicles turning their sinewy icy limbs
Leading one home from its source
Liquid living within, reflects the mythic crystal
Deep in its heart, alert
Music brushed by air furthers our reach
Leading our many paths home
The living Airs about, within our very cast
Deep in its heart, alert
Eager fire tips swim along Yule logs
Leading alternate truths inside the crevices
Fires living within, touchstone to the forces
Deep in its heart, alert
The clarity of the pulses of their dance
Leading the maze of ourselves along
The many Sights abound, inside us all
Deep in its heart, alert

Laura looked in the button box once held by her grandmother's hands
looking there for her as only grandchildren can;
and, hearing the echoes of every ivory, tin and plastic piece
gesture from the past as part of the love from family avenues;
Feeling the grooves of every buttonhole, every ridge and crease
passing on the tales, asking to be part of something new.
Every button a riddle, the thread and buttonhole an answer
every mystery waiting to be sown or unraveled
every song willing to be passed
only waiting for the time to speak.
Laura looked in the button box once held in her grandmother's  hands;
hearing the harmony and smelling the buttercup mist of song's memory
hearing her grandmother
as only grandchildren can.

Singing
When a swallow sings
wails lose their desire
such a curious thing
such a craving fire
When a swallow sings....
With a quiet moonfal1
circles cease their quivering
and miracles have total recall
with the song of a sweet harp string
With a quiet moonfall...
With a pause in the wind
comes the sound of the song
like a dream's mystery
like a starsighted gem whispering
with a pause in the wind...