Originally published in 2004 the poem “A Whisper to the Night” has been completely reinvented. Arguably one of my best poems this new version creates a more complete narrative that the original could only hint toward.
i.
A whisper to the night;
The river speaks.
Its moving streams move out of sight
Flowing into the deep, deep night.
The moonlit reflection moves
Across a shallow surface.
And the water’s inflection whispers with a kiss
To the darkness of the deep.
Inflicting pain where beauty once lived
A love I no longer keep; a heart now contrite,
And still the river whispers to the night.
A whisper to the night;
The thicket grows heavy.
Singing songs so faint, so light.
The warm breeze creates a melody,
As the trees add harmony.
Wishing you were that free,
You stand silently – with insight.
In solitude, the thicket whispers to the night.
ii.
A whisper to the night
The breath of autumn speaks
Through its breezy dreams and dancing leaves
The wake filled streams become brimming
With leaves that are:
Falling.
Falling.
Falling
And the naked trees that are often heard:
Calling.
Calling.
Calling
For their kin to return to them.
In the midst of their sacrifice
The leaves and trees still whisper to the night.
A whisper to the night
The blazing sun speaks
Though it has fallen into the sea.
Its wooing voice echoes freely
To the sky it has left behind.
While its trail is still seen clearly
In the hot summer dusk.
The sky unites,
And still, the sun whispers to the night.
A whisper to the night;
Does the beach, which ebbs and flows
Like man’s embattled soul, which rages
An eternal fight.
Meaning little to a husband and wife
Who walk its dark cool sands.
Holding hands, they gaze the waters deep.
Watching it slosh and spray,
Like meaning, sprinkled into their lives.
With a peaceful serenity, the black waters whisper to the night.
iii.
A whisper to the night
Does the poet of the age,
Who can no longer write
Or find his way.
Instead, his words of silence
Slowly become his light,
Finding inspiration in the cold silence of his fight
And yet, the poet’s song still whispers to the night.
A whisper to the night
Does the human mind,
Which can transverse through time.
Setting sail through its memories
To a past that can make a human heartache.
And where a drowsy numbness
Is the only thing that can take
The edge off its pain.
Though the world is lost in sleeping;
The mind lay steady awake.
And though the heart is overcome with weeping
It survives the pain.
In the night’s attempt to smite the mind
The night still whispers to the night.
A whisper to the night
Do the lines resting upon the old man’s face
Wearing them like scars
Telling of stories, like one with too many stories to tell.
They are life’s award, so he wears them well.
As he patiently waits for his flight
His soul whispers to the night.
A whisper to the night;
Does the warm Fall rain,
Which hastens my heart to fright,
And quickens my soul to pain.
Like the journey of the leaf
From the tree to the ground to be stomped upon.
It is the same with grief-
The stomping of my heart.
Creating within me few words of depth.
No longer can I raise my fist to fight
it is only my silent words, which
Whisper to the night.
Larry Jackson
August 28, 2022Thanks so much for your clear, insightful work.