The tower brings the earth to sky, The water brings the sky to earth; Maybe we’ll know it, by and by — The reason for our life, and birth, Or maybe, we are meant to be Twixt woe, and what’s uproarious In equal measures, to reflect On what’s above And glorious
The sky was bluer than the truth, The days were green with kindness, And what our limitations were Less known to us than now — And where we gathered, laughter grew, Like moss upon a treeside; We swung out on a tire swing, And flew when we let go — What made sense then was … Continue reading "What Made Sense Then"
The silent hour comes, and when it’s so, We gaze upon an ever-changing flow That we can’t comprehend, or quite take in: But where there are no answers, still we go. When all the things we thought would give us sway Within the silent hour slip away, Then frail and tiny as we are, we … Continue reading "The Silent Hour"
catch a spate of flying dreams, hold them for a feathered rest, tell the moon to send its beams, call the sunbirds to their nest, give no thought to fears arising, nor to conscience terrorizing, just stay a day and dream … Continue reading "dream-catching"
Just past the rusted mailbox, I walked her from the road; She turned her head to listen to the river as it flowed. I watched her dark hair blowing, like the soft-reeds with the breeze, For love was whole and perfect, and I was at my ease. Outside a country restaurant, the sky was … Continue reading "Just Past the Rusted Mailbox"
So now, my friend, why are you frowning? All this could mean a moment crowning What we might have hoped today: There’s no reason for pretending; There’s much here that’s ripe for mending, Well within the lovers’ play. What is right? There is no knowing; All I have’s but scant for showing; Rare’s the truth … Continue reading "The Lover’s Play"
[An exercise in cribbing another poem’s metrical patterns. – Owen] Tell a tale of tall trees, A thicket full of woe; Shadows in the black land, Miles yet to go. When the shadows moved, then, The earth began to see — Wasn’t that the oddest place For you and me to be? For you were … Continue reading "Tell A Tale of Tall Trees"
I have it.
Crawling on the ground.