Tag Archives: glory

What Time Is It?

Today I kissed the leaves of two Oaks
One Ash, and one Redbud.

It was all in perfect glory.

So… we’re calling this “2010” …
Do you know where your Mother is?

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On an Apple Tree

I had a pleasant job when I was 16 working in a small, private greenhouse and cut-flower garden.  Immersion in floral rainbows and thick greenery each day delighted me then as it does now.  Behind the greenhouse was a small yard of luxuriant, thin-bladed grass with a carefully pruned, standard size apple tree growing in the midst of it.  About twenty-five feet tall and perhaps thirty feet across, this robust tree provided cool summer shade to the yard.  I enjoyed taking my lunch breaks in this yard, leaning against the apple tree.

During my lunch break one day, having already eaten my sandwich, I took a notion to climb the apple tree.  It was early Summer and the apples were still quite tiny and the leaves were nearing their full flush and strength.  I do not remember exactly why I needed to climb that day since I usually rested during my break.  I do recall that I liked to peer into the canopy when resting against the tree trunk. I had marveled at the patterns of filtered green light diminishing daily until the shade was almost complete from the converging growth.  From this perspective the canopy formed a flawless fractal flower of greenery evenly spread by its living fan of twigs, branches, limbs, and trunk.  I believe I simply could not resist being up into the thickness of that beauty.
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Bardic Aperspective

1
The mouth is opened.
You can see the labor camp inside
working on the words to end all words,
at least for a while,
at least to hint an end exists,
pressing the strategic geometry of influence
to restate the circumstantial evidence
into metaphors of the ineffable,

something,

to eclipse both the final say and sayer.

The feet that bring that good news
matched only by the
beautiful belly buttons of better bards,
the omphalos of humanity.

2
A cloud is rising beyond the trees.
It’s in the air, you know.
We breathe it.
The birds know this substance well.

Full of thought and being,
ghosts live there, you know.
We breathe it.
Spirits know this substance well.

Inhaling all the common memes
we hold our breath and dive in search of life.
Exhaling speaks the blue-green mantra,
Stokes the fire, affirms the strife.

Each thought we breathe informs a story:
we see now how they spin their glory.
Word-weary we wait…
we breathe.
We fan the flame and wonder.
What gods have put together
Let no one put asunder.

3
Vital vapors reach a verity of height and heat,
cool into words and descend.
The best neither fogs a friend
nor floods a foe,

but infuses life with life.

4
So many sentient poets now
afloat beyond belief
to challenge all pat answers
and ever seek relief
from arrivals on the scaffolding
still weary from their climb
who want to set up housekeeping
and corner every rhyme.

“This is not it! We are not done!”
The fervent mouths will shout,
“Rest and then arise again
and work the inward out!”

5
It sounds so simple when you say so.
The air sparkles with largesse
and I fly before I think to flap.

It’s the itchy dreams that form us, you know.

These dance
when, at last,
they hear the music.

But never because they
know they know
they know

the steps.

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Sun In Your Eyes

Sometimes I see the sun in your eyes
When you’re responsible for every shadow
But cannot see one!
Toward your good gift of light
I rotate my dark side for warmth.
Since you don’t, can’t see a dark side
When you are the light.
And your glowing gift
Grants me also the same glory
The same self-radiance.
I do want that sun in my eyes, too,
that sees no shadow.

8/22/2008

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