between, a long river
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The ancient sage, beset with too many thoughts
chooses carefully the place to sitbeside the lake,under the even more ancient twisted pinewith the view of distant cliffswhere the stork’s cry echoes;gathers his thoughts.Out of mercy,the breeze gently ruffles the surfaceof the lake;the sage, reminded by the ripplesof the stillness of the lake,smiles from a mind that’s now the lakereflecting the blueness of the…
After you’ve negotiated that artfully-conceived
through the fields of its estate,and it hoves into view,you always gasp – this palace– no, more like a temple with living quarters –set deep in the countryside, yet as sureas one in Athens or in Rome;yet that too is artfully contrived –the slight mound it’s built on,the cunning proportion that magnifies,disguises, with its public…
This poem
see, it’s wagging its tail,it will follow you anywhere,run off and come back,a perfect companion;this poemloves fun:you want to play dressing up,it’ll laugh and rush off to the attic,the basement, the dressing-up basket;this poemis serious:you want to be silent awhile,rest your head on its shoulder,it will wait for you insympathetic stillness;this poemis humble:turn it over,…
This mirror.
this; that;finally asked the mirror silentlyits opinion.The mirror agreed with the perfectionthat she saw in herself now, in front of it..Now she leaves the room.The mirror has nothing to reflect.While it’s reflecting nothing,steal up to it from the side,admire it. Maybe praise itby polishing it. Wonder, how it isthat it has an in front of…
and there’s this alleyway
ordinary, butthe pavement in front of ithas been carefully swept this morning;you came upon it by chance,but now you’re here, itseems important;an old man – well,old for that part of the world –probably not long to live, buterect, still, extraordinary eyes,they seem to see everything;doesn’t say much, butask him any question in the worldand he…
Was this first yellow primrose
to join it in wordless praise?