1 Give me my scallop shell of quiet,
2 My staff of faith to walk upon,
3 My scrip of joy, immortal diet,
4 My bottle of salvat{.i}on,
5 My gown of glory, hope's true gage,
6 And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.
7 Blood must be my body's balmer,
8 No other balm will there be given,
9 Whilst my soul, like a white palmer,
......
Sweetest love, I do not go,
For weariness of thee,
Nor in hope the world can show
A fitter love for me;
But since that I
Must die at last, 'tis best
To use myself in jest
Thus by feign'd deaths to die.
Yesternight the sun went hence,
......
I am looking past the moon.
I am reaching for the stars.
The journey is worth the effort,
The distance is not that far.
I go as far as my body takes me,
My imagination lifts me the rest of the way.
The stars are constant, faithful friends,
Guiding and showing the way.
I've heard it said,
"Stars are the forgot-me-nots of angels",
......
I
We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage
And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die,
We Poets of the proud old lineage
Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why, -
What shall we tell you? Tales, marvellous tales
Of ships and stars and isles where good men rest,
Where nevermore the rose of sunset pales,
And winds and shadows fall towards the West:
......
It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.
......
I will not let the weight
of old winds bend
your wings any longer.
You will soar, not for escape,
but for discovery.
We will carve the sky
into new stories,
where no shadow lingers,
and no voice drags you back.
Your flight is not borrowed—
......
“Wish you
a very happy new year”—
declared the lurid signboards
hanging by the roadside.
The same words echoed—
through cell phones,
on television screens,
in newspapers and magazines,
woven into grand stories
......
Each tick of the clock
propels me forward
Memories play catch
dappling light from shadows
calling me away again
with every breath, I grasp
gasping at brilliant flashes
......
end’s beginning . . . .
. . . . a seed that falls
strikes the ground and ends…
the goodness of its covering
fleshy fruit but an aftertaste…
then germinates and sprouts,
with daily nurturing sunlight
to spawn the next generation
......
One sad song
one not even meant to be sad
One bittersweet moment
one not meant to linger
One small fragment of a feeling
one that I meant to let go
I don’t want to keep it
I never looked for it
I never sought it out
......