Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Five A.M.

Some mornings are better than others. This was one. Across the street is a maple just visible in the breeze. And across my feet... as I take the recliner for a slow ride. Loving it now. And here.

five a.m.

. still .
. listening . i wait .
. sense of earth this hour .
. resonant with bounty .
. and springtime too .
. its life . its bliss .
. with cool air washing .
. and birdsong in the dark .
. springtime .
. at 5 a.m. .

Saturday, May 19, 2007

To a Poet Friend

I wrote this last week for the birthday of a co-worker, an engineer and a poet.

To Aubrey Forbes:

Engineer Poet -- the Two Sides of Soul

There's a challenge for every man who is a poet.
First there is the part of being man
when there is woman with which he coexists.
You see, this world is more than earth and water, wind and sky
it's more the life God fits it with.
And I do not mean mere biomass,
but that flesh and blood possessed
with Soul and song and dance
and thoughts of love,
as if God above gave each a test
impossible to pass.

But he tries to live up to that higher calling.
So he goes to school to learns the rules
of race and culture, law and order,
business, science, engineering.
And heads for home (wherever that is)
across the waters, 'cross the sky,
Jamaica, Toronto, Minnesota,
so he can grow and show
the world it matters
that he lives.

May live by numbers,
black and white.
For there's a living to be made
in reach of the everlasting quest.
And that is love.
Pursuit of it cost some death
and at their end was the bequest:
That there be something better
than is found by most.

But that's not all:
For those that are more well equipped
there is the mind and pen
and juxtaposed against it is the Soul.
An engineer with pen and mind and God
is called to poem.
And now all creation,
this very world's reality
could be at stake.
You see the light and hear the sound
with eyes and ears of flesh
but wait--beyond the words
are worlds of wisdom and a new voice calling
all of us to better goals in love and life.

Soon great secrets hidden by the world.
At first just nuance, than in inkling.
Finally the niggle
can be ignored no more.
Life by math and its mere measures
finds small reward in rendering sketches,
or bending wrenches.
Instead he sleeps and dreams
of mystery schools and golden wisdom temples
to learn the finer art of honing
higher forms of human endeavor.

And when he awakes
from his night of days in making
the engineer-poet
is still taking words and verse
and building bridges for all souls
to the worlds of God from this planet earth.

And even after all is fixed
replete with sound and well-lighted
in these two worlds that are united
there is a man (if not many)
schooled in math, and much higher,
who lives and loves the mysteries in life
and their complexities in love
especially the one which is his wife.

Engineer-poet, you bless us
with your writing and your life.

Monday, May 14, 2007

The Tree Line

(From my journal almost a year ago.)

Do you hear the raucous call
from the dark contingent?
Crows on the tree line.
What do they see in this day's end,
when my mind would rather
robin in the sprinkler?

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Celebration of Robins

Very much robin this morning
trying their best to compete
for full and complete enjoyment of the rain
in thunderburst celebration
of nighttime blessings
fresh. And the tulips