I sing you in my body, God said.
The crystal goblets in
my credenza vibrate with your nearness.
Echoes of the Big Bang bounce off
my parlor walls when you laugh.
You show your moon-side, and
all of the parish dogs,
sleeping on sofas, and the midnight coyotes,
snacking on offal,
stand up and howl.
Nothing in me can resist you.
I’m like a tuning fork,
at your approach.
* I’m still not settled on the big bang line. Something seems off about the rhythm or the progression of imagery. Any suggestions?
How should I not be glad to contemplate
the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window
and a high tide reflected on the ceiling?
There will be dying, there will be dying,
but there is no need to go into that.
The lines flow from the hand unbidden
and the hidden source is the watchful heart.
The sun rises in spite of everything
and the far cities are beautiful and bright.
I lie here in a riot of sunlight
watching the day break and the clouds flying.
Everything is going to be all right.
................................. Derek Mahon
I’m not much of a poet. But weather like last night’s makes me want to at least try.
The Chinook winds marched into town last night,
Banging pots and pans and shouting
Slogans of change.
They rattled the windows of the courthouse and
Swung from the trees in Central Park, while the neighbors
Huddled inside, waiting for the
Revolution to begin.
Around 5 A.M., the weary watchers slept. And,
When they awoke, the streets had been
Swept clean, the dirty snow
Hauled away. And the grey sun said,
"Now, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat."
I’m definitely going to need a nap today.
I was combing through my books of poetry and came across this one again. Usually, I revel in it with an eagerness to share the wonder of being alive. But, today, there’s a harder edge to it, because, rather than an affirmation, it is a thorny reminder–a reminder of what I hold dear, a reminder that living with integrity to these principles is not just celebration but also slow, painstaking work, a reminder that rising above does not mean ignorning my needs, a reminder that there is nothing else but this.
School Prayer by Diane Ackerman