An Afternoon Oscillation
In the quiet afternoon, my thoughts
return to those springs past
Those wonderful nights of sudden delight
How much grief has filled Those vessels since! All those words are now a blur
On the fascimile of time The ladder one climbs year after year Into this time called the present
In which the afternoon sun Falls on this regret, that regret, so much regret. Still beauty as it stands in one's heart
Remains untranished A trout leaping from a spring The glide of geese - point to hope Hope in the heart, in the mind And in the pen I hold!
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A Sabbath Poem
You set out on sidewalks
scaled with cherry petals after
last night's thunderstorm.
Dandelions have risen their yellow periscopes from a sea of grass
On which the wind
is inking bars
for the day's music.
As it is continually written and erased. Two ducks dive bomb the lake green and full of secret glints
The secrets for which a man on the distant shore patiently awaits with a fishing rod in hand.
What cathedral can approximate the height of the sky, the verticals of the beeches, the stained greens of spring?
And what sermon informs better than a silent heart, the echo chamber for the geeses' wild honk!
What better company than these playful swallows hovering, wings flapping over the lake?
I hear you ask what about the consolation of griefs, the forgiveness of sins?
Walk into the deepest glade, jumping over beached and stripped logs to the moss covered spring.
Touch that open vien of this world. In that consilent instant, you shall become One and zero.
2004:03:21, Lullwater Estate, Atlanta
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Two Bits - [Beethoven Interludes]
[1] A carriage is waiting for you two white horses pulling at their reins to race the avenues burnished by evening sun
Viola! you enter the square laughter is jumping into the street from open windows. The clear laughter
Of a woman. You turn your head and look for the voice but the horses gain speed and like a dream
that vanishes as you open your eyes the laugh vanishes. You find yourself in an apple orchard and there stop
to hear the voice of a gradener coming closer and closer down the line of apple trees, singing.
2004:03:19 Words scribbled in reponse to Vega String Quartet's performance cycle of Beethoven's String Quartets
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