Sieving Silver

When branches try to capture woes for moon
a year unwritten scribbles silver words of moon

It bleeds in melting snow — its sentences
unowned, these silent phases of the moon

Of rhythm independently – the woodwind
sing in syllables as soldiers of the moon.

The conductor waits with cobwebs past
as the curtain falls – interpreting the moon.

He needs to find the tune but not the beat,
as years may waltz, may swirl around the moon.

To find your path, for just a while look back
embrace your past, pursue it with the moon.

Its language is the silver caught in sieves
that’s spilled in waters — don’t unbear our moon.

Tonight it is Open Link Live at dVerse, and Sanaa hosts. I rewrote an old ghazal from a few years. Originally written as a new

years poem, and here is a song from my youth that can go with it,

November 11, 2021

23 responses to “Sieving Silver

  1. Haunting!

    What a start..those first two lines that bring a whole new way of nature in words…can’t het them out of my mind…

    and that last line, not to unbear our moon….really…strong stuff…must be full moon around now actually, lending more pertinence…

  2. This is gorgeously worded, Bjorn! I especially admire; “Its language is the silver caught in sieves that’s spilled in waters.” Such a strong, palpable image. Thank you so much for sharing this gem at Open Link LIVE tonight 💝💝

  3. Although we had a smaller turn-out today, it was very spirited, and the fellowship was intense; thanks. Your lunatic lines with Ghazal form set a mesmerizing rhythm. I could not determine the emotional timbre of the piece, sadness stirred not shaken, happiness heaving heads on high, eyes on the sky.

  4. Ghazal’s one of my faves, and this one’s a meisterwork,, Bjorn.. I wish I could have joined today, but, um…nope. Love the concept of looking back to find your path. Salute!

  5. This is enchanting. So much moon love. I think it is the tune and the sun is the beat.

  6. “soldiers of the moon” … I love this—especially with how it works with the closing image of the moon as a horse, representing a cavalry perhaps

  7. I’ve come to appreciate the moon and stars more as the nights draw in. ‘Its language is the silver caught in sieves
    that’s spilled in waters’
    – A perfect depiction of the way the moon speaks to us.

  8. The ghazal is a form I always find very difficult to write. This one flows well, and the repetition builds a picture of our shadowy sister that is as changeful as she is.

  9. The woodwind soldiers of the moon is so exquisite. I love how there is a creation, a reaping and then an almost erasure. A cycle of writing in and of itself. Lovely, Björn.

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