Heaven Underneath the Sound of the World

By F.E.Feeley Jr.

A collection of Poetry from F.E. Feeley Jr, the author of The Haunting of Timber Manor, Objects in the Rearview Mirror, Still Waters, and When Heaven Strikes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: F.E.Feeley Jr.
• Release date: Jan 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370965403

F.E.Feeley Jr.

F.E. Feeley Jr is the author of several books including, The Haunting of Timber Manor, Objects in the Rearview Mirror, Still Waters, When Heaven Strikes, and the soon to be released novel, Closer. He’s also been a part of several anthologies including, Indigent as well as Gothika 5: Contact. This is his first published work of poetry.Born in Detroit, Michigan in 1981 he became an avid reader and lover of the written word. Inspired by the world around him, he now lives in South Texas with his husband John, their German Shepherd Kaiser Wilhelm, and their cat Ms. Abigail Adams

Book preview

1

Spring the First Sister

Raven-haired springtime

White thunderclouds spiking thirty thousand feet

comes the high priestess of all the sisters

as tempest shouts her arrival

when the warm and cold air armies collide in a battle high above the earth

She is the regal one, with trumpet blasts and flashes of mortar fire -as hot as the surface of the sun- a crucible

sends humans fleeing before her

---

With a flick of her wrist, a tornado touches down

its wicked tail signs the ground declaring her presence

as her armies of southern sweet air clash with Winter's bitter winds

---

The age-old fight between life and death

what was and what shall be, a clockwork madness that

despite its wrenching pain happens again and again

and unlike her sisters, she seizes territory and marks her place

---

Astride a lion, whose roar bends trees to command respect

crocus, tulips, daffodils resurrect from slumber

triumphant where the lion’s claw touches the earth

white fades from the landscape; and the world wakes

---

Once upon her throne, she calms slowly as the earth turns from concrete to dirt

as the nights shorten in length to day

she descends to walk among the cradles of the babes with doe-eyed wonder and tender promises

---

With all the majesty one could muster

This Lioness, she calls her ebony sister, lamb's-hearted Summer.

She is spring, wise mother, giver of life abundant.

Her name is Spring, and Queen of all she sees.

2

Oh, for the Trees in Springtime

For the trees in springtime

when the bud first opens and litters the ground with its remains

and the tender petals, fresh and palest green,

emerge upon the face of a stately tree that easily bore the winter snow,

slumbering, white powder on black branches

trembled by a wintering songbird

awakened by the golden kiss of heaven - all spring long it stretches itself upward and onward in a slow, luxurious yawn

drinking thirstily from the sky turned black with terrible rumbles of thunder

the tender petals flip to expose their bellies while the world and the cardinals shiver in fright

---

For the trees in springtime, remember

when fat-fisted children reach into the grass the fall before

and pull back two or three winged seeds

from Maple trees and scream in delight as they helicopter

to the ground

next to the trunk older than their mother's mother

and just as watchful

now remembers why she loved those children as children of her own sprout up just outside the reach of her canopy

---

For the trees in springtime

The live oak seems almost like a god of ancient times

with a base broader than a man can embrace

with tree limbs stronger than the river flows

who - in the fall drops acorns faster than squirrels can gather

the spirits within, you can hear snort with mirth - when one of their artillery happens to fall on someone's head

---

But oh, for the Trees in springtime

new leaves and the fragrance of the soil

old creatures giving way to new birth

promise a thousand days underneath the cooling shade

I read my favorite book

and upon my shoulder and neck and face

sunlight's dappled kiss stirs through the branches

to bless the child who comes to visit

3

Springtime Memory

Chase memory through the wildflowers

down by the stream and across the covered bridge

stand in the in-between place - between the sun and the shadow

and remember the dragonflies alighting on lily-pads

florescent blue upon the emerald green

---

Remember the feel of the worn sun-bleached wood

as you slipped off your sandal to touch the ground, barefoot

and how you jerked it back up quickly with a hiss

but not before you felt the smoothness almost softness of the plank

---

Remember the smell of the water all around you

as stream fed the pond fed the lake that surrounds

and the scent of sun-dried earth and freshly cut grass, drift

as a John Deer moans across the path the sound fading as it leaves

---

It’s a Thursday, and you're playing hooky from college and its