poetry
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The Man with no PrideFor me there’s always timeswhen words can do no better:The laughter in your eyes,the pattern on your sweater.I don’t pretend to knowthe places we could go for warmer weather.For me there’s always times when words can do no better.To the man with no pride,Nothing could be better;For the man with no…
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When the Light’s Indigo (On Heaven and Hell)Relaxing a fistthat you didn’t know was closed.Radishes—how they wave their magenta redsThrough photon fields to find me.How mother’s voice gets softer when she sings.Where will I go when the light’s indigo?(and oh what a silly thing to say)But while I am still, you can bet thatBrick by…
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To See and Be Seen It is a burden to be seen. Does she stare at people too long because she is trying to see herself in their eyes? And what does she see there? It is a treasure to be seen. In her I see a brook, carving gently, slowly Soothing with a crisp…
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We Lose Sight of it in Small TownsWe lose sight of it in small towns.In the forest it is clearWhat tension grips the heartwoodAs bustling the leavesAnd desperately the roots reach out—To live, To take, To change.What difference it would makeIf I could live half so ardentlyAs once I loved you. This is one of…
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A Frog SomewhereI am One with the great Silence,and I am the calling-forth:The echo of “Who am I?”In the stillness of “I AM.”Again and again, my assertion;My falling over myself, responding.Can it be? How can I be?And why at this time, now?( )But for every call to righteousness—For every cry for being—There is a foggy,…
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It Was GoodIt was good(for even just a moment)to stand before a single tree;To let it be this!To let it be thus!And to let it be Other:To let it be the subjectof an oath, or a song,or dirges. I have decided to limit my posts to a few times per week, rather than every day,…
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Be Imperfect and DieBe imperfect, and die!Envy not the ancient constellations,With their stick-figure constancyfixed in the heavens.No! Forgive this conception and transcend it.Be a real constellation:Burning, ever-moving and gloriousfor your never-waiting, yourindifference to the supplicationof that old, inquiring organwhich churns inside youbut would petrify the churning.Be imperfect, and die!Envy not the ancient spring,which pushes life…
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On Emphasizing the Out-BreathPlay your hunger.Strum it like a silver chord.Let it dance like a cool flameround the earthen walls ofthe fine ceramic vase of your body.Relish the out-breath.Without it there is no in-breath, no relief;Yet it is not only an assistant but a companion.Let it tickle your lip and whisper to youquiet songs of…
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A PrayerI offer to you, Lord, my confusion.I offer to you my extremes.Let me be as a sapling in the wind,bending to the vicissitudes of my mind,bending to the response of Your will.Let me see the gloryof a pine, deeply rooted:faith by nothing overturned.Help me to lookwith equanimity for truth;and to discoverthat my sight expands…
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The Three SingersI was brought downTo the place where all the world’s a poem, an art-garden,and all the people sculptors.Unwillingly admitted, in fact—a three-day sojourn among the cluttered, the broken-in.The fallen leaves, coloring still; not green again or yet(but greenness is self-serving anyhow).I met perchance three singers with one braided song.The song was mine, and…
The Trinitarian Mystery 