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:
......
Let me but live my life from year to year,
With forward face and unreluctant soul;
Not hurrying to, nor turning from the goal;
Not mourning for the things that disappear
In the dim past, nor holding back in fear
From what the future veils; but with a whole
And happy heart, that pays its toll
To Youth and Age, and travels on with cheer.
So let the way wind up the hill or down,
......
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",
......
The morning sea of silence broke into ripples of bird songs;
and the flowers were all merry by the roadside;
and the wealth of gold was scattered through the rift of the clouds
while we busily went on our way and paid no heed.
We sang no glad songs nor played;
we went not to the village for barter;
we spoke not a word nor smiled;
we lingered not on the way.
We quickened our pace more and more as the time sped by.
......
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
......