Praises come through the speakers.
Someone says, Turn it down.
Tag Archives: poetry
I’ve yet to let
Go what’s gone.
In me the dead
will seed the dawn.
The flower of
this earthly wire
will climb to God
and then expire.
The heart’s a cloud in its very own sky —
Blotting its source
and cooling but why?
Certain players had moved on
This finally would be the year
of game-winners and accolades.
And so I rose early to prepare,
pounded down the dark road
before the long day of work and school,
hating the road,
hating the fear and weakness within.
God being none the wiser
Keeps dumping beauty and grace:
the cornflower, the gentian,
the shadow game
and streak of light.
The pretty eye,
the inward sigh,
the clearing mind
and day we might.
O friend, O friend —
O friend I’ve failed to be.
Would that I could cut out
the cuts that slip from me.
A carp paid the wind
To build a wall —
it’s ice ‘tween him and me.
And there he sits in his dark,
knowing I can’t see.
But I’ve cut a hole
and drawn a chair:
I’ve the patience of a tree.
Comes a thaw,
I’ll crash through that wall
and face to face we’ll be.
Thy twisting Word
On a tree
flipped the earth
and flung the sea.
His waves in space
are coursing still.
They have a lot of
time to kill.
Landing in the snow at Friday Harbor
We’ll not miss the island.
When we’re near, it will beckon.
A line of lights will point the way,
and we’ll have more than
this roar and blue buffeting —
more to guide us
than the glow of little dials.
Snapshot
You still see our smiles
but it’s dark and we’re
dropping through the bottom.
It’s as in the two-act dream
where the kiss leads to the search
and the path disappears.
Utrecht Journal 