The Thrush at the Sill

 [Poetry], Sonnets, The Timid Leaper  Comments Off on The Thrush at the Sill
Aug 312011
 

Bright beyond belief the morning sun
Presents a double blazing image
Above the sink, bewitching just enough of dawn
For me to throw both windows back in homage.
I went forgetful about my round of chores,
Touching openness neither less nor more
Than I was bid by my round of chores.

Sunset had sun exit as it had come,
In doubled glory. A thrush burst out at once
Loudly loud, as if woods and house were one
And eaves leaves.-- And thank, yes, forever thank
Such song for how it came and its coming in
To wake indoor woods beside my sink.
Thank thrush for landing home in homing in.


Existentialist Dilemma

 [Poetry], Assembling the Earth, Sonnets  Comments Off on Existentialist Dilemma
Aug 282011
 

The dilemma of doing's to 'have done,' 
And by choosing from Many be left with One. 
Addition's chief mischief is dubbed a sum;

The unwary mistake it for a total solution.
The wise contend that all is confusion, 
Or at best a formal intuition.

To act presumes belief, or so I'm told,
And am pointed onward, backward, or upward to God, 
(And reminded not to mind the length of the odds). 

The less done the better is my subtractive reaction. 
I'm not quite afraid to feel quite forsaken, 
(Except that, of course, I might be mistaken).

One thought is left me, with which I'd begun:
"The dilemma of doing's to 'have done.'"


What resolution will recompense

 [Poetry], The Departed Friend  Comments Off on What resolution will recompense
Aug 212011
 
What resolution will recompense
	 His companions for the pang
	 Of his departure?  What chimed gong
Will make his going make new sense?

How after harrowed grief resolve
	 To live whole again?  Does the leaf
	 Shorn from the trunk that gave belief
Ever re-ascend to former love?

Here's no parable to mumble;
	 We make our dying sounds above
	 The grave that garners all our love:
The open door unable

To accommodate return.
	 Let us gather where we are blown;
	 Let us hold what we do not own
But a moment, and make return.