Leigh Faulkner

Building a better world, one learner at a time…


The river sleeps darkly here at the ocean;
Force presses force and all movement ceases.
So it was this morning before first light:
You singing to a child long dead.

Suspended in dark ecstasy, you became
The hummingbird reaching for the flower,
The mower stopped by the hay smells,
Leaves caught by the wind.

Now that you have changed sorrow
Into a strange joy,
Only birth and death
Are without substitutes.