Now I Shall Sing to Her Child of the canopied woodlands and the peat-soft forests I grew Up through the grasslands and soft flower-fields of a dream-burdened youth, By the swift flowing stream fell asleep with my head on a clean grassy pillow, Face to the sun and my heart wildly beating with joy of the morning. Clouds held me captive as they scudded and flew through the dome of the heavens And I couched in evergreen softness, took flight from the body's obtuseness. Alone in the mysteried present I soared to the realm

Remorse 4/2/07 I stood a long time listening and watched Inconstant breezes move across the lake, Hoping perhaps that I might hear your voice, Some signal would appear that you had crossed Safely over the bridge between two worlds. Nothing did I see and nothing heard. Death must have held his breath throughout the night And dared not take you while I chanted OM, But morning came bright with tears, the rain Beat gently on the window in your room. You loved in silence and you left in silence too. It was the time of dogwoods and the homes Were softened by the clouds of pink and whiteÉ I travel slowly not knowing where I go In my unconscious jo

Her Transforming Face 5/14/07 Behind this tortured world a golden dawn Prepares the hour of man's transcendent flight And all our sorrow, suffering and sin Shall disappear in radiant delight. Prometheus and Atlas shall be freed And evil overwhelmed by puissant grace, Persephone released from Hades grasp And the world transformed by Her transforming face. First published in Mother India – August 2008

Great White Heron I saw him as a ribbon of white light Moving across the stillness of the lake Immense wings flapping soundlessly Rising above this coloured world of green And at that moment, my feet upon the earth, My soul took flight to rise with him above The reaching branches of the oaks And over the tall tops of massive pines. Emerging from the prison of the flesh Into the vast dimensions of the sky A moment free before it must return To a body chosen long before this birth And beat its wings against the iron bars Of mind and dungeons of our small desires.

Better to Be Silent I know nothing of poetry My only effort is to write The lines that drift down into me From a source that seems to say, 'Pick up the pen now, quietly.' And for a little while I wait For the words to congregate Into a harmony of form. The rhythm comes, sometimes the rhyme. I try not to think too much For mind likes to interfere Believing always it knows best. Better to be silent as a pond Receptive to the skidding stone Whose momentary splash and skip Is nothing more than surface noise And

Faith Must Live in Us Three freezing nights in the leaping month of spring When buds about to burst were smitten down And all the earth a dull and dungeon brown Shattered were the joys to which I cling. Though leafless trees would rest to leaf again, Beneath the soil an energy and flow, A Will of Life to blossom and to grow More beautiful for suffering the pain Of Nature in her self-destructive moods. Each day is a struggle as the world is torn By violence and from its beauty shorn. I walk now through no lush and green-crowned woods, And suddenly as I am standing there Buds break forth upon a limb once bare. Alone in thought, resolved wit

Death is Such aTemporal Thing 3/30, 2007 Splendidly the dogwoodsburst On open land, among thetrees, Their coming does notslake my thirst Who have seen the greatmagnolias freeze When winter thoughtshad fled the mind. Grief and joy aremingled now In seasons fickleand unkind Who deal to life thefatal blow. Man too has masteredthe killing fields Unable to rise abovehis state, Half animal, toviolence yields Consumed by centuriesof hate. The air seems lesspolluted here And Nature flowersunconcerned Welcoming in anotheryear As from the east I havereturned Though move lessswiftly than before Look more within yetcannot se

They Say a Hard Freeze Will Come They say a hard freeze will come An ending to this glorious week When flowers burst through swelling bud And miracles on miracles Appeared before my awe-filled eyes. The vivid azaleas colour the path, Viburnum like dancers with pom-poms leap From garden borders and the phlox Cover with gaiety the earth. A few magnolia blossoms cling To branches breaking forth in leaves But now has come the dogwood's hour. I have read that Christ was crucified On a cross made from the dogwood tree And a spell was cast by God himself That never again would its trunk grow Large enough to hang a man. Natur

Widened is the Heart Often the exultant voice of Spring Has greeted me in flowered field and wood In mornings of her joyous offering And evening's quiet peace and pensive mood. I have watched the new-born flutter in their nests A parent's patient voice upon the wind Through beauty know that all my life is blessed, Widened is the heart and unconfined.

The Healing Music 12/29/07 I saw a love that night though filled with zeal Could not believe, and damaged by abuse, Beaten so the wounds have yet to heal Now for humankind has little use. The painful visions of a pain-filled youth Scars not healed through adolescent years, Remembrance of the evil and untruth Have settled in the soul a host of fears. Only a light, a peace to waken inner sight Or tender touch upon a troubled heart Might lift the hurt she lives with day and night That from childhood's nightmares she might part. Now she is gone, this youth that made me young And all the days of loveliness and sweet, For there are songs