Andrea Moorhead

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Niagara weeps / Andrea Moorhead

Niagara weeps, her heart among the dead

and earth still covered in ice and flower

where the mounds for burial are rooted in vine

where sun has warmed so many fears, so many hearts aching

but Niagara weeps at the crest of joy

at the matting festival of fruit and earth

at the plain song at dusk and the frozen waste in concrete

she weeps and the songs are carried ceremonial

at the hour of sleeping

when hands and limbs, when eyes and lips are cool

and the only song is carried beneath the rain.

wind and light / Andrea Moorhead

there is nothing at Niagara

acid burns along the river

the strawberries bloom under the night

when leaves turn towards the sun

and the day star shoots across the water,

there is nothing at Niagara

and my hands are empty

neither straw nor cornflower

not the jet black of crow and raven

the grounds are empty at Niagara

and there is only wind and the soft light pattern

of mist on skin.

The Hermitage at Night / Andrea Moorhead

no one is home tonight

the birds all flutter around,

honeysuckle shines in the dark

and the window by the kitchen door

is open.

open air as the night rises

there are stars on the porch

and inside each room

the emptiness sings.

spring storm / Andrea Moorhead

there are no letters today from Holland

the light pewter, the sky wild with wind

and storm, trees fallen in the mind

ash and pine, maple and oak,

all across europe, trees are falling

and the light bends around Holland,

there are no letters today

and the flat hard reaches of the graveled north

lie somber and without


This one light, this Aachen / Andrea Moorhead


This one light you cannot cover

blackgold as the sun rises

and night falls beside,

this one light, perfect anaphora

you can never touch, never see,

in the blood as the mind snows

and memory rains on this stone,

this shielded earth

this undivided black fire,

in the eyes as dreams tire

and the body floats above rest,

in the hands as sun dims

and the cells remember

other light.


Freely, as light wanders

and the eyes follow

hesitating, at times


when the rain is too intense

and the heart too vast, too still

worn into sand and leaf

worn into pore and skin

as noon remains above

and the clouds have receded

blue, violet,

the colour of your eyes.


Aachen where rain cuts

sun glows after ten

the hands still

warm again Aachen

sings this light

i cannot

forget remember divide

time between

breath after breath

of darkness

worn to fire.


Aachen my soul my love

this plaited time

of copper and stone

this chapel of burning

grain this division

of light on pupil

and thigh my Aachen

closed when war shatters

and the grey light settles

on my lids.


Aachen my great loss

my mystery

zone twilight hindering

this heart melts

evening light on my lips

Aachen always

as birds sing

as war shatters

as the red sun again

above the fields of elegant



Raise your eyes

lift your head

clouds across the chapel

grey on our eyes image

retaining one sound alone

one breathing

high above

this shattering Aachen,

this cruciform

of undivided

but still


and the weight on our limbs


where hearts have loved

and this land birthed

dreams of fire.


Aachen my fire my flesh

call to darkness

where the mind splits

and fingers count, remember

softness beneath the light

under the light in the light

light all around

and darkness in fire.


This one light, this Aachen

it's snowing in Aachen

where the rain is crystal light

and lamps have a special glow

it's snowing again in Aachen

where our feet repeat

each pattern left by the war

each soft, gentle touch of earth

where the heart has salvaged

a dream to love.


where the heart has given

and blood flowed

purple in the growing night

under this sweet city

under this vault of oak

and soft waters

where the mind dissolves

and the body begins to remember

a cure for madness

april light

all around us

and beneath our feet

vast fields of grain

where the heart has given

and blood flowed.


This one light we cannot forget

cannot dissolve as we walk again

across this Aachen,

across this great undivided

heart, where dreams still tremble

and limbs during the evening

freely as the sun dims

stars appear and there is

no more war, no more shattering

when the heart is too young

to defend its dreams.

This Aachen in my arms

this one night without edge

a field of light and passing rain

all is still

all glows

Aachen sleeps as snow begins

and we cannot forget

this one light, this Aachen

of two names, city with two lives

mirror of our discontent

and longing when light falls

and the mind wrestles stubbornly

above burned fields and charred timber

above the cutting edge of iron melted

the earth's core in rebellion

lava dust ash raining burns

where bodies fall

and light has settled to witness

this one Aachen

this one witness to time undivided

to the light to the earth

to love.