Wind-drawn storm
Dragged ragged and
Red west, trees
Stripped to
Tendrils, rest in
Sudden stillness.
Stars, other suns,
Appear where sky
Clears over other
Gardens, other worlds,
As ours will dawn
To this --a house
Of mirrors, an idea
And all ideas.
You only know where
Your inside is
In cosmos, here.
In there, in calm,
Is a light and
Reflection all
Lives share.
Once again,I am impressed to say that I want you to find a larger audience: on the air, in a bookstore or coffee shop, in print? In any event, I got tingles reading this because it describes and captures the immediacy of what is upon us now....
ReplyDeleteThanks Willie,
ReplyDeleteIf you thought the clouds were beautiful a couple hours ago go outside and get a load of them now! They're all backlit white against black velvet with stars, planets and the moon peeking thru the gaps!
Geo.
Thanks! I've been here too long at my 'puter again, and so I took you up on that suggestion. It's much like you describe here in Sonoma Valley also: a nearly half-moon and twinkling stars against that black velvet with just some foggy wisps starting to float in from the San Pablo Bay south of us. No wonder many ancients saw the night sky as a black velvet scrim pulled across the daytime sky....
ReplyDeleteWillie,
ReplyDeleteAnd, once again, your comment is a poem in itself! Regarding readings, publication, you may recall I did that thru the '70s, and got tv interviews, newspaper reviews etc. It was fun! It earned me the unsolicited envy and animosity of other poets, then I went outdoors. I was not a competitive writer. Now it's the future, another century, and poetry is read at poetry slams, which are competitions. I don't fear competition; just dislike anything with the word "slam" in it. So I write here, there, where I wish, as I wish and reflect no disturbance.
Geo.