Monday, November 28, 2011

Love of the Earth

My heart is in the meadowlands,
My heart is in the sea,
My heart is in the blowing wind,
My heart is in the wheat.
Like branches borne with thickest fruit,
Or skies split raw with rain,
So is my heart the bough, the root,
The fuel and the flame.
My heart is in the meadowlands,
My heart is in the sea,
And now my heart is in the sands,
On the banks of the Seine and Spree.
Yes, my heart is the world,
And my heart is the sun,
And my heart is the stretching sky,
And when I am old and my life is done,
My heart is in heaven's eye.

Monday, November 21, 2011


Immortality: here I lie
Seeking the purity of your tranquil eye,
Drowned in the tendrils of your kiss,
Wistfully pardoned by beauty and bliss.
The fair, emerald hills with their crescents on fire
With summer white wind and stolen desire,
And the memory of God when he came in creation,
Leaving the gnarls of land to the nation.
If I, merely human, found heaven on earth,
I would pass by the pleasures of happiness' hearth,
And wander forever on immortal plains,
Brushed by the amethyst lights of the rains.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

I Am

I have a friend on the wide, wide bree
His song is the song that is part of me,
A little wren with a throat of gold
And tales that the trees themselves have told.
I have a friend on the vast, vast sea
His life is the life only known to me,
A broad, blue wave with bright hands of blue
And secrets of foam that the seashell knew.
I have a friend in the soft, soft trees
His words are the words that devolve to me
A sweet, warm beam of the purest sun,
A place and a presence where dark does run.
The leaves still fall softly, but nobody knows
I am part of the summer and part of the snows
A portion of birds and a sliver of sea,
And a whisper of wind passing over the bree.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Listless Season

I retired in the morning,
It was half a day too soon
And the larks called out a warning
By the soft, enshrouded moon.
On the terrace in the garden
I was yet inclined to be
Half a human, half a creature
Of the sweet and silent sea.
In the mist that broke the twilight
Leaves danced out across the lawn,
Amber-chested, golden-threaded,
Smattered with the strokes of dawn.
In the august of the morning,
Should I seek a distant shore,
Frost, like diamonds, are adorning
Every slick and seaward door.
Season, with your signs of coming,
Leave me now a shard of warmth,
And perhaps, when you are older
You will know my listless heart.