The Poems
The Covenant
I am an artisan,
A painter of hues unfading
To blend upon my pallet
Infinite promise
And emblazon on my soul
A landscaped canvas
Stretched to infinity
Between pillars of prayer.
Neither stalked nor
Conspired against am I.
Only Fate has been my betrayer.
And although the defenses
Of my mortal flesh have weakened,
The borders of my body
And the cisterns of my soul
Are strong, alive
With pulses of blood
And liquors of hope.
I will not lament
Nor ask of this from you.
I will not know defeat
Or the wrath of any pain
For I, like a solitary seedling
That yearns to taste the falling rain,
Know well that God's eyes alone
Will shed but triumphant tears...
...Upon my brow for me
And for my covenant of victory.
The Gift[iii]
“Out of my window the strings of the
harp are struck, Oh, my heart! How is
it so deeply entangled in the echoes!
There is the limitless sound of the trees,
there is the limitless brightness of the moon”[iv]
Today the sun cast hues of hope.
Open eyes and grimaces,
Heart beat flutters,
Angel cries.
And then serenity.
A life lived long enough
To taste the sweetness of
A mother’s kiss,
A fathers kiss;
Caresses and caresses
And whispers,
And kisses again and again.
Blessings, prayers, tears;
Moans of weeping.
Silent moments.
Raging thoughts.
Peaceful thoughts
Which memory’s keeping.
No shadows.
Pure light.
Eternal light.
From sun and stars and moon glow.
Save the night of today
When the moon eclipsed, turns umber.
And Teodora be our gift, forever.
Scholar[v]
He, the doctor;
plays the theatres of maladies,
thrusts deep into
entwined complexities
of life's forces which
penetrate nearly to death...
and to death,
while spectator-less
scenes amass of wretched disease,
spurning wrath of reason,
and frames of frozen helplessness,
turn towards thresholds of despair...
but not crossing.
The healer;
lusts against disease,
at his rostrum his faculty
to gift preservation,
to imagine suffering
and bring imaginable defeat;
to lift endless torment
with gentle hands of dignity;
to gaze at pain but see life;
to ponder its wonderment
and ironies, peel away its injustice,
and unearth the marbled core of its soul;
to smile, to cry, and now to pause.
The scholar;
who unaccustomed to
senescence, though lighter now
of visible labour, will remain
to till our minds with wisdom and
leave in its furrows, the very families
of humanity he served and bettered;
a shining light, arousing and inspiring,
a never-exhausting actor who compels
an operating theatre of great drama,
of untiring hope…
and amidst the extremes of misery,
of indefatigable compassion,
for it is he who defines
“physician
Rohin
I have born my soul to God, my son.
As he slipped into the crevice of death,
I could not watch nor see his image before me,
But I knew of the perfect beauty of his body
Even when he nestled within me,
For he is loved as a mother loves a son
And no pearl nor ruby nor even diamond
Can light the shards of shattered dreams
More than this love.
Peace will come to me, I know
And my son, my soul,
Will take from each
Of my uncountable tears
Eternal sustenance as he rests
Now in the body of our earth
And learns that what we know
As the saddest sadness
Is but a gate into the mystical
And miraculous wonders of
Tribulation, promise and hope.
Eurus
The East Wind connected with Aurora, the Dawn[vi]
“If she is a saint, then her symbol is the Thistle”
Born with skin as soft as thistle-down,
And tearless cries resounding,
You are of the wind which bellows in our breasts,
A miracle in a world of miracles.
You have severed the doubts of uncertainty,
With vestal vision you bind our hearts in unity
And when we speak of love and peaceful dreaming,
We look at you and see the fringe of daylight
Streaming into our hearts
Porcelined colors of the dawn.
Deeya[vii]
In my home, you were my light.
Your blood, my life,
Your love my love.
In my home all your heartbeats were for me.
And when my heart,
Once a fleet and aflutter
With sonorous marching did now falter,
I had not the wish
To forewarn nor advise.
For I could hear the calling
Of an angel's rhapsody and
From afar see small lights
Marking passage heavenly,
Trailing ‘embered’ footsteps
To forever guide your thoughts
Of me your child.
Anauraga[viii]
For Georgia[ix]
You the Master of Art
Witness no illusion to
What you have done,
For you have written scriptures
For promise and yearning,
You have wedded victoriously
The intellect and the passion,
The form and the fashion...
For...learning,
Necessities, as the shoulders of our children
Carry forth from your faculty
Weights of truth and discovery
Summoned when the silence of the night
Is pierced with calamities
And the arduousness of the day
Crave creative wonder.
And we know...although the assent,
Set in the scorched air
Of ten Augusts passed,
Is now completed
In the shining of this Springtime...
Reverence and friendship,
Like the very soul of Art
Is never lost,
But as the seasons themselves,
Endures in cascading timelessness.
For William[x]
I know where songs are made
And where simple words are born.
It is in the hearts of dreamers,
And in souls of those who mourn.
With lyric, love and tearful sorrow,
Music comes alive,
Giving death a reason,
Assuring we’ll survive.
And when the music dissipates
And only words remain,
It is the words that last forever,
Soothing sorrow, healing pain.
Words inscribed indelible
In our books for young and old,
Words that open minds as flowers
Whose petals in the spring, unfold.
William has bequeathed to us
Like these words of which I write,
Enduring love and gilded wisdom,
Every minute, hour, day and night.
So read the books and see their words
Enlighten your children’s' minds,
For there is no greater beauty
Than the beauty words define.
Mentor[xi]
"…I am part of all that I have met;
Yet, all experience is an arch where through
Gleams that untraveled world whose margin fades
Forever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use![xii][xiii]
i.
They number hundreds of thousands, his words;
Arranged in manuscripts;
Theses, hypotheses;
Truths,
Nestled between the long shadows of science
And the tall pillars of
scientists;
Searching to unravel the paradox
Of chaos from the order which is life.
ii.
They number hundreds, his students;
Children of his intellect;
Beneficiaries of his passion,
So vital that its privilege
Is not of teacher, but of Mentor;
With wisdom to be guide and
Faithful counselor
As he feeds the fires of their aspirations,
And the fragments of their dreams,
Each a child itself,
Longing to grow and understand
And conquer the haunting
We call disease,
The maladies of illness.
iii.
And they number twenty-two, our years together;
Father to his students,
Father to his children,
Grandfather to his greatest joys;
We celebrate [tonight] our
Privilege of being his colleague
And share in his transition from leader to
Forefather
Of what remains to be discovered,
As our Mentor pursues
Those fortunes of medicine
Which as the ancient's decried:
'Will vanquish misery
And grievous disease
Mitzvah[xiv]
i.
Summoned by the voice of destiny,
We peel our skins of daily toil,
Our moments of banal routine,
And stare beyond reflection as
Azure skies blacken and
Blossoms freeze and fall;
As elements seek reason.
Yet living remains a promise,
Beckoning, yet not begging.
Nesting in sinuous branches,
Forgiving; not forgetting.
Singing; not rejoicing.
Weeping; but not crying.
ii.
For there is no tarnish
On his breaths of gold;
No decay.
His virtue reigns,
Fusing generation to generation,
Parent to progeny, young to old.
Though mortality is certain,
Its finality, its eternity,
Endures in those sacred passions
And deeds bequeathed, today;
As we shed our carapace
To unfurl life's grandeur
Of simply love and grace,
And gifted time…
Beyond dismay.
Beyond the limestone Obelisks [xv]
O child!...On thy head
The glory of the morn is shed
Like a celestial benison!
Here at the portal thou dost stand,
And with thy little hand
Thou openest the mysterious gate
Into the future's undiscovered land
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Beyond
the limestone
obelisks
and spired temples'
towering climbs,
come miracles
from your children
who touch
a simple candle flame
and with neither
fear nor pain,
turn fire
to wick and smoke,
and welcome
peaceful darkness,
...who vanquish
massive pyres
that burn
portraits to ashen sketches
to scatter
about the crevices
and pitted skins
of ancient stones,
who quell the squalor
of fallen hopes
and fill our cisterns
with art and poems
Behold
your children,
wisdom be their strength.
In conflagrations
their reach
will quench
life's
weightless fires
to shine
a promise
through window panes
upon your Temple's spires.
Matthew[xvi]
As you mourn,
And as you grieve,
I know what you think and say,
For whispers from within a heart
Sound louder when you pray.
I taste your tears
And smell your scents
Feel love though here I lie.
As you ask again and again
The unanswerable question, why?
“Why this loss?
This fate for Matt,
Our son, our brother, our friend?
Why should such a benevolent man
Suffer so tragic an end?”
Though I cannot make answer
Nor understand,
Reasons that be.
I can tell all as you lie in prayer,
My affirmations, I promise, will be.
Façade[xvii]
Love insists our hope
Hidden in winter’s façade.
A child. An image.
A memory. A promise.
Yet,
We shall unveil its wonder;
…The gift of tomorrow,
And why we love, today.
…Even the stars have cried
In solemn silence we walk the woods
beneath the boughs of willows, wailing
In a room of silent tears
You gathered in your sorrow
Hovered, hugged;
Gazed bewildered;
Why I’ll not live tomorrow.
In a room of silent tears;
If I could, I’d cry;
Out loud; To tell
Of this secret moment
Of why today I die.
My lot was cast at this hour…
Which birth and death both share,
Yet understand the sense and reason
God Loves; God calls;
God cares.
I now reside in peace…
As you grieve and say goodbye;
Shedding tears with immortal heavens
Yes, even the stars have cried.
The Passing Tides[xviii]
I loved the river:
Enchanting.
I loved the wind:
Caressing.
I loved the daylight:
Soothing.
I loved the starlight:
Haunting.
I loved my ‘dear ones’:
Being.
I am now all that I loved:
Blessing.
Tiferet[xix]
In prayer we plead return,
And in dream, awaken!
We fall to stare at gleaned grasses
Scattered about forgotten fields,
Singed by a senseless lot,
And thirst to cry forever.
Yet,
We will not be draped
In the blanket of loneliness called solitude.
For deaf of song and absent of vision
Of who we are and who are our children,
Its veil will descend, then disappear.
We are "alive together".
The margin between breath and breathless
Is narrow, like twilight and darkness.
Moments of simple thoughts
Become ageless memories.
There is triumph to taste,
Love to embrace;
Havens of hope to inhabit.
Soon, the curtains of chaos
Will rise with the setting stars
As memories of joy
Bond with joy itself
And we will smile once more,
At last to breathe a painless sigh
Of what is love.
Naratva[xx]
I could not cry, though my eyes wept.
I listened, then paused,
Mesmerized.
Tantalized.
Digesting.
I felt a fury. I craved to hear more.
I asked how could this be?
This young Doctor
Who writes and speaks as an elder; a prophet.
Knowledgeable of the flesh which marks us;
Of our souls which bind us;
And of the tapestries of humanity,
Fragile and vulnerable as they are,
Who strive to overcome
Stains of prejudice and disease.
And then I listened again,
To her, the Accentor of a profession,
Struggling with its privilege and meaning,
And I smiled,
For I know I have heard from her tongue,
The trumpet-call of Hope.
Netzah
Eternity[xxi]
Could I have died so soon,
So soon that my cries
Were silenced in your womb?
So soon that I'll never touch
Your breast nor feel
Your hands caress
My brow?
So soon that you never got
To sigh and cry
Sweet tears of joy,
For your first child,
Your first born boy?
Could I have died so soon?
I suspect not,
For I felt the passion
Of your love around me
As my heartbeats slowed,
Then stopped.
As I lay motionless,
I heard the misery
In your cries that
I would not be born alive
And wondered, why?
Yesterday father, you fathered me.
Today dear mother, you birthed me.
I was there, you were there.
We all stood witness.
I heard your whispers,
That you love me.
I heard you tell each other
How beautiful I was viewed
In my eternal quietude.
I even felt your soft caress
As you held me to your breast.
On this morn, mourn not for me.
With ethereal grace I have a name.
I have a home; I have a life...
To live through all eternity.
Madeline[xxii]
Alabaster columns of sunlight, gleaming,
Illumine the darkness of this day.
Nightmares turn to peaceful dreaming.
Awesome fears fade far away.
Though now my soul no longer dwells,
Upon the world as I have known,
Still I live beyond the pastel
Elysian fields, which are now my home.
Weep no more for me, beloved,
For I can sense no pain.
At one with God in heaven above
You; I'm at peace, and at peace shall I remain.
Elyssium[xxiii]
Our first-born cries.
A golden dream with
Expectations as promising as
The expansive petals of the
Sunflower....and hope,
To learn the provinces
Of a virtuous world:
Kindness compassion,
Benevolence, caring,
Integrity, tolerance, delight
In sharing... as she emerges
From her veil of childhood to
Bathe in the joys of her
Life;
Commencement [xxiv]
I bear today
A countenance of promised dreams;
Sanguine visions sweetened with
May-time baskets
Of floral scents and sights
To smile upon the face of
Spring's delights. And while
The frosted tears of winter's cry
Melt and flood the
Mountain streams,
I pause to wipe the joyful tears
I've cried
For my daughter's life and being,
And her countenance of promised dreams.
Rainbows
I remember the rainbows.
The simplicities of youth: smiles, laughter,
Quixotic dreams; my mind filled with
Poetic thoughts of conquest.
Of stormy nights and of
Rain-soaked days there were many, but
I only remember the rainbows.
When I sat in the woods, I
Watched the light from the morning sun
Gleam through a phalanx of oak trees.
And I climbed to the highest rock and dreamed,
That I was one with the clouds, afloat,
Above the verdant land
That was my home.
And then, set upon the shores,
I would stare at the waves rolling softly towards
The beach. And I questioned how long the sea
Has been the sea, and wondered if these same waters
Were traveled on by the ancients.
I bemoaned the poor and the sick and the weak.
With vows to help I sought out my fate.
With rapture, and a spark of enthusiasm,
I've become a healer.
Betrayed
Liquor about my child
Entombed,
confined within
My faltered womb
How you betrayed all my
Life's hope.
Yet it is hope
That will befriend and bath
her primal soul
With sweetness to
Eternity's end.
Jordan[xxv]
Listen all to the music of trumpets,
Of harps; of lutes.
With harmony they announce a joyous birth.
Her namesake a river whose banks
Of fertile soil caress the ripples of its
Vital waters. Her life full of wonder,
to flow endlessly, yet willingly,
Into larger seas with unknown boundaries
And infinite depths.
For as the river flows out from the wilderness,
So from our bodies her life began;
With love and hope,
Our angelic daughter, Jordan.
Memnon[xxvi]
My tears are watermarks
Which imprint forever
Sentient reminders of gentle hopes
And dreams subdued.
Extant in painful thought they are
And sleep afar
In caves of ancient echoes
Wailing for my perished child
Who now guised in angel's silk
Sings madrigals of sweet delight
And turns my tears heavenward
To drift peacefully into the
Forgiving canyons of winter’s night.
Hymettus[xxvii]
Softer than the softest rose
are the clouds on which I sleep.
Sweeter than the springtime honey
are the thoughts that I now keep.
Farther than the farthest star
is the home where I shall live,
Deeper than the greatest love
is the love I've yet to give.
A love that is immortal
and will grow with each new dawn.
What in our lives we shared together
will remain to be reborn.
So grieve no longer upon my death,
my soul is still; at peace.
I suffer not upon this journey;
my ascent to ethereal grace.
Cameron [xxviii]
I no longer see the stars; I am the stars.
I no longer breathe the wind; I am the wind.
I am the sweet smell of honeysuckle after an
Evening rain.
I am the dew on the rose petals in early
Morning.
I am harmony and I am peace.
I am love.
In sorrow, my mother and father cry,
But they need not fear. For I am strong.
My heart is whole and in union with my soul.
I understand my fate and I smile.
For nature's will is my destiny
And my guide through eternity.
Pax[xxix]
Far above the obscure shore
The sky cast forth a" darkness visible"
That speaks your sadness forever more,
Of a loss that's ever so insensible.
But above these clouds where the sun beams glow
With no shadows to cast or eclipse,
My soul lives on; I feel no sorrow
For in my world, I still exist.
To those who love me, I feel your love.
There is no pain, I am at rest.
I have my peace in this heaven above,
And with your prayers I am forever blessed.
Ventose[xxx]
The chilling winds of March do blow,
As on this day we mourn.
And from our eyes fresh tears do flow,
...our child will not be born.
With God's consent did she ascend,
To his Empyrean throne,
A refuge surely to transcend,
This grief we feel at home.
So as the 'Ventose' winds abate
And springtime flowers bloom,
We know her soul is incarnate
In Heaven's immortal womb.
Megan
Every cell in my body cries.
I want to reach out, embrace you and
tell you I care.
I feel your pain, I know your needs,
but I cannot find a way to comfort you.
I watch the sun at dusk and sense
its strength
And know it will rise again.
Immortality[xxxi]
Arise from behind your shadowy cloaks,
Sinuous branches of olden oaks,
Reveal thy life and thy glory;
Your luminescence of immortality.
Forever have you shown yourself
Upon this earth where mortals dwell,
To remind us we live for eternity,
If not on earth then heavenly.
With lenity and grace, you comfort,
When from our loved ones we must part.
You give us all the strength to bear,
The formidable burdens of our despair.
And a lessening of our sorrow,
As we live, love and delight... beyond tomorrow.
Amaurot[xxxii]
"All we know
Of what they do above,
Is that they happy are,
and that they love."
Edmund Waller
If I could wish myself a dream,
It would be to retreat for a lifetime and hide
From a world of unjust suffering
Where mankind's afflictions and pains reside.
I'd labor to quarry limestone and granite
To fashion for my very own
A sanctuary to spend infinite years;
Eternity would now be my home.
I'd cultivate gardens of forsythia and violets,
Plant olive trees and harvest grains;
Grow apple orchards and grape vineyards,
From their full bounty would I be sustained.
Of lyres and harps there'd come splendid music,
Beautiful children would dance and be gay.
Sadness and crying would never bear witness,
Illness and sorrow would remain far away.
You'd be the first to visit my home,
Sweet child whose earthly life has been taken.
For here you would live and love and be blessed,
With God at your side, your eternal beacon.
Sonnet of Faith[xxxiii]
Appareled in a veil of grace,
Angst and despair showed its face.
Yet from your eyes a gleam did shine,
A hint of nature's grand design.
To teach us all that we must cope,
And never lose our faith and hope.
That all things bad and all things sad
Will be eclipsed by what makes us glad:
Love and trust in one another.
Wholesome values as father, mother.
Embracing our children sweet and fair,
Holding their hands, combing their hair.
These are the flames that within us burn,
The passions strong for which we yearn.
So, while today your loss brings drear,
The morrow's sunshine will again appear.
Saline[xxxiv]
I grasped his strong hand
weeping edema beneath
mottled skin and
pulsed coded messages.
Then with a kiss
placed gently upon his brow,
withdrew, and said good-bye.
Around us, aprons of sand
embroidered shores of saline oceans.
Inland, grasses wove their tapestries.
Grains, blades and salted pools mingle;
reservoirs for creation,
repositories for death.
Silent is our
morning's song,
lost our morning's glory.
The grasses stilled by quiet winds sleep
day-long now. Rays of crimson sunbeams
like thorns, pierce
the clouds of our despair
as our dissonant cries fade
into nothingness.
Windows[xxxv]
Gather
every morsel
of hope,
precious gift,
and open your eyes
to its wonder;
common images
earthly sights
hourly routines
that maintain
the equilibrium
of why and how
you live
and lived.
Delight
in what are your joys
and then
for just a brief moment
let them close
to the darkness
and paint
upon the canvass
of your soul
portraits
of secret longings
that come alive
in these minutes
of solitude
called dreaming,
art forms to dance
from the palette
as you revel in
this secret world
of unspoiled vision
and immortal promise
Obsidian[xxxvi]
My shrouded body
lies interred in frigid
caverns of blackness,
as you mourn and fear
the coldness of my death
and the abyss
of my nothingness.
But neither barren
nor alone nor pained
am I, or will I be
for as the midnight
at full moon, I'll gleam
God's light
through all eternity.
Rhapsody[xxxvii]
Gone are ten thousand days
of perfumed winds
bellowed from the
lungs of God with
gusts and drafts that
scattered wandering seeds
of despair, craving
earthen roots to anchor
their promise of reborn
hope.
The Morning Dove[xxxviii]
By reason unexplained
came the wrath of nature's
will and pain upon an olive tree,
to cleave unequal its fair soul
and hurl each fracture into
stormy destiny. And as time
and hope and prayer
within an earthen womb
nurtured tendril branches
where buds and blossoms bloom,
I cried, for I was first to
see a morning dove bear a leaflet
in the Spring and fly
homewards... for eternity.
Sean[xxxix]
The moon's thin crescent
casts dim spears
of speckled light upon the
path I walked this night
with your hands in mine.
And although darkness
hovers close above our bodies,
warmed with dew's sweet tears,
you turn your eyes to mine
to see the embers shine
and burn to ash all despair
within the abyss of my soul
and praise tomorrow's scented air
I breath, for now my body's whole.
Martyr for Desire
for all children, lost
You are my quiet darling.
Your eyes, like morning burn
The minutes of futility
To contrite hours, turn
Eastward where begins the dance
Of ocean tides, and slumbers still
The famine of our grief, to hide
So deep within my wounded will.
A promise poisoned from the start
So brief without reply or song
Did graze your spirit in my field.
"Return to me" I cry, I long.
As chaos prods my anguish, yet
Neglecting fortunes in my soul,
Tinted hues of destiny
Are tender thoughts which sorrow stole
From me when first I heard your voice;
Each murmur on your breath that sang
Like harps converging as a choir,
And chimes afar, with passion, rang.
You are my quiet darling
Within a cold and flameless fire,
And I, a prism in the shadows;
A silent martyr for desire.
Spire[xl]
From oblivion to infinity
without origin or finality,
our minds petrify like fossils
ancestral passions
to consummate all life's promises,
while above us wind-songs cleave
one cloud in two,
two to four, four to eight
and create
infinite dispersions
so we may see
stars flicker,
moonbeams' shadow
sentinels for sunlight's travel,
...and watchtowers for the treasures
of eternal hope.
Divus[xli]
I loved
the quiet time I spent
when every heart beat
you had sent
to my flesh
and to my skin
flowed forth to bring
me peace within
your silent womb,
...I loved the silent time.
And even as
my tiny heart
labored at death's call
before my start
at birth and life,
and as I ailed,
soon no longer
to inhale
or feel your pulse to mine,
...I loved the quiet time.
My body now
apart from yours,
still lives, yet not
upon your shores,
and suffers not
nor is in pain
for within
its new domain
I can love the quiet time.
...I loved the quiet time.
Yekhida[xlii]
Thee,
I've touched
and kissed,
and loved you...
... now I
float in
clouds
above you.
Memories
please me
from my
past
transparent shadows
purely
cast.
Though my
corpse
on earth
remains
My spirit lives
in this
domain...
...And like a rose
in desert's
sun.
A miracle
is what
I have
become.
The Mist[xliii]
When winter's gloom succumbs,
and grief melts in the sun,
warm currents on my breast will stream,
and turn frosted tears to sunbeams...
Sadness moistens my brow like
mist. Silent tears coalesce upon my cheeks.
Petrified by the cold of winter,
Forgotten by the spring thaw,
I shiver and feel lost
in this the season of my sorrow.
Loss has embraced me more than
once, yet it has never seized me.
Hope has been my reclamation,
My emancipation,
From the bondage of despair.
Hope exists in the swelter
Of summer and persists
As the leaves fall in November.
Hope thaws the snows of winter.
Hope does not forget.
Evening's Song[xliv]
I know the scents of evening's-light,
The sweetness of its songs,
And its taste of honeyed dew
That fills me as I watch it greet
The fresh first light of dawn.
I feel the silks of evening's-clouds
Caress my weakened frame,
To the music of a symphony;
Resounding, ringing, beating, singing
Tearing at my pain.
Beyond meadows, valleys, mountain-crests,
Riverbanks and streams,
I've known the joys of giving;
Touching, caring, loving,
For this is what I've dreamed.
As landscape's margins meld together
As dusk seams itself with night,
My body mends without it fearing:
...From the deepest darkness
Comes the brightest light.
Courtney[xlv]
Winds rush about me
fueled by earth and sky
to purify stagnant basins
where thrives the praise
of autumn's last remains,
its gentle rain,
its moonlit frost,
the falling ocher leaves
that cluster in brittle piles
to blanket earthen roots
whose petals now are lost... .
..and I, confined and desperate
to smell the scent of pine
adrift in winter's frigid winds
in darkening December skies,
about to touch the promise gleaned
that now within me lies.
Longer Days [xlvi]
Today, my senses are paralyzed
In frozen chambers of dismay
As in solitude I chant
Silent notes of prayer.
Like a leafless tree writhing,
I long for blossoms
At spring's first dawn
When the brightest days
Are longer than
The darkest nights,
When the breezes are warm,
And the air is fresh
With the scent of laurel,
When climbs of roses
Bring new hopes to bear
And tears of time
Drown my despair...
...When oblivion is home
To all my dismay.
My Heart Be Yours Forever [xlvii]
I make you both a promise
In these my infant days,
Half my heart be yours forever,
The other for God- in praise.
For he has blessed me with abundance,
Granted more than I can give,
Never will I feel dismay,
Your love is why I live.
When you hold me very close,
Your pulse feels slow and sure
Which calms the flutters of my heart
And gives me hope that's pure.
As my parents you are frightened
That my tiny heart is frail
That my body cannot endure assaults
Fate to it assails.
So, I must tell you mother, father,
I implore you...be assured
Spirit transcends my adversities
Horizons harbor my cure.
.
Butterfly Breaths [xlviii]
Every day awakens
With kisses on your brow;
With mist that veils the early light
And hides the morning clouds.
With butterfly breaths of longer days
Where heard are fewer sighs,
And echoes from a mountain's song,
Dissolving plaintive cries.
No longer will the seasons part
The year; dividing into four.
Now hours blend to days and weeks,
Weeks to months, forever more.
Every day awakens
With visions of what's to be:
Spheres full of joy and wonder,
Timeless moments of Infinity.
Soraque [xlix]
Winds drift on ephemeral wings
To watch the sun's veil lift.
Distant, darkened skies crack clouds.
Humans cry out loud.
As I kneel to meet my death
Mortal and frail, I fall
With ravaged mind abused
And hide in temples
Of immortal winter sequestered
From one life's end
To the end of all and wait
As infinity becomes my soul.
Suri
Earthen trails confuse in
Lost loneliness of nightfall.
Darkness that blinds
My path is like shadows
That fleet with the sun
Rising and falling
Appearing and disappearing.
Yet in those aged fortressed forests
Where loneliness and fear
Bring profound blackness
And where despair shivers
Have I found my way.
For Oliver, Born of The Sun
Our senses light ephemeral
Like a mist whose song is sung
Upon the glory of the dawn,
And then moments,
Even hours later
Stretches towards
The silvered profiles
Of slivered moons
To watch as scars
Crevice the substance
Of your heart
And mark its passage
To our love;
...And now we dream
As tiny angel breaths,
Warm with endless promise,
Melt to spawn
Infinite acts of faith.
You are a muse of healing.
Your hands
Like summer meadows,
Catch silent silhouettes of
Gentle breaths which caress
Forsaken hearts
To dance about again,
While instruments of Sunlight stream
On fragile leaves of promise.…
And in quiet shadows
Of peaceful dreams,
Play duets of hope and affirmation
Uplifting curtains of uncertainty.
Return
Return home
Upon the long and winding road,
Where etched is your pathos.
You empowered the breeze
To make shadows sway,
Silent voices speak,
And all grace rejoices.
Return home
Upon the long and winding road,
Conjoined with faith,
To dance among the boughs of spring.
Obstare[li]
I have stood here before
When birth deceived and
Surrendered to my hands
The very spirit and soul of humanity;
The essence of life save life itself.
And I have touched before
The angle hair and silken skin;
A child lay bare, still and silent
In these outstretched hands
As my will cried out
To scream a breath of life
Into his pale lips
Now frozen in the mist
Of endless dreams.
Yet today I smile
As I have smiled before,
For from such drear
Comes a voice;
A voice, so serene
That it transforms
The searing pain felt in
Our hearts into song;
Melting stones of sorrow
Into liquors of love,
Forever a memory
of our dear Child.
Love Contained[lii]
Music floats on streams
Of summer’s final breath
As rains of hope
Wash famine from my lips.
And now love contained
Within my marrow sleeps
And I am left to dream and wonder
While angst becomes my silent partner,
Dueling with the rain.
I love the music
Which floats on streams
Of summers final breath
And hear it even as
Sadness mutes its song.
For its rhythm is certain
As the pulse of my heart;
Its voice everlasting,
As my memory is long.
Courage[liii]
"Until the day of his death,
no man can be sure of his courage"
Jean Anouilh, Becket
He was a being in search of his destiny,
And with abundant virtues and dignities,
He filled his days with endeavors of selfless devotion.
A sage with a love for mankind,
He cared for the needy with reverence.
Though the sorrow we feel is deep,
We must not share in his suffering, but
Triumph over his death by committing our
Hearts, our bosoms, and our most visceral spirits
To profound purpose.
Yes, stand tall, thy men of courage,
For a leader amongst us has fallen.
With gallant humanism, and valiant resolve,
He leaves our mortal plains and hills of despair
To ascend his mountain peaks of glory.
With his inspirations of vitality and hope,
Everything was beautiful and good.
We lament his short life yet find comfort that
His mortal being was but "a fleeting gleam"
Between two eternities of tranquil salvation;
Be comforted; for now, His soul is at rest,
Cradled in peace.
Andira[liv]
Beneath their feet the parched leaves crack.
Lifeless, fallen branches fracture.
To mend the pains of endless thirst.
A mother cradles to her chest,
The newborn child upon her breast,
And while gazing towards the cloudless sky.
Asks why to be born if now to die?
Wasted by their arid land,
Children beg with outstretched hand
Their feeble voices impotent,
To cry; A Death-Watch all too silent.
Hunger cries but finds no ears,
None to help their doleful tears.
Impoverished people bearing sorrow.
Starved today; entombed tomorrow.
The Din[lv]
a clamor.
louder
than the searing noise of
jackhammers,
trucks, motorcycles
and the like,
pains my ears:
gunshots and sirens,
screaming mother's tears.
murdered teens-
just children you know,
dead now over some drug deal
or gangland ego.
a disordered, senseless waste
of human life and vigor,
granted to every person of every
of just equality.
yet of those who escape
the leaded missiles
from wanton guns,
or needles
infected with contagion;
of those not starved
for food or love
or for learning;
nor for clothes
or shelter or for yearning
to have a solitary chance
to breathe
per chance.
the fresh air of a country
morning,
i ask:
"what is it you fear,
what clamor do you hear?"
Birth[lvi]
I have seen the caul
like honey glazed
contain and bathe
in sweet succor,
kept watch as
mother's wombs
tear in pain to
bear their child
and then as if my first,
stood aside and
cried with awe at
the birth, that quiescent harbor
where life sings
psalmic verses
of calms and storms
rains and draughts
sun lights and dark nights,
agendas to live on forever.
Aoide[lvii]
The first song on earth
Was a child's cry,
A canticle of absolute beauty.
Each note a bequest for eternity;
Ageless music of heart-sounds
And first-breath sighs
To immortalize
The promise of humankind.
.
A Silent Gravity[lviii]
When great men fall, great legacies remain,
Perpetual incarnations of words and deeds…
And family…
Which thrive while silent gravity
Mends our pain and binds our souls
With joyous song,
In recent moments which pass too slowly
As cobble stoned thoughts struggle day-long
To find symmetry.
And our memories like dreams appear and disappear
Becoming random glimpses of sunrises,
Blurred by the haze of mourning,
Yet glistening with mists of love
Which lift our life one step higher, every day.
Egeria[lix]
It is in these moments that we gaze upon the moon,
It is in these moments that Nature becomes our Egeria[lx]
Today, near May, the harvest is behind us
Yet as much, it lies ahead.
We plant our seeds even as the icy sun
Strains to warm the earth.
We prepare. We are sure the
Brilliance of the blossom will come to be
And the scent of the lilac tree briefly will penetrate
The early mist of springtime once again.
In this glory infinite, there will be
No longer mourning of what has been.
For I have loved, and I love still,
And created a child and another-
Who walk distant frontiers,
To torch and fade despair
Into transparent exile...
Silhouettes emblazoned heavenwards
As I watch and turn a smile…
…and watched as ponds
And serpentine streams,
Relentless in their ebb and flow,
Carved channels of ancient thoughts and dreams
Like fossilized intaglio.
Yes, I have lived and I have known
And traveled on northern trails,
And western peaks and pastel fields.
I have sensed the scents of daffodils
And the melodies of songbirds.
I have reveled in the excesses of my heart;
The splendor of the day;
The quietude at night;
Countless raindrops on countless petals;
Sunrises splashed in pink and white.
And today, near May, though the harvest
is behind us, yet as much, it lies ahead.
To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something
else is the greatest accomplishment. Ralph Waldo Emerson
Fortunate, are those…
whose lives so fragile,
And in just being, so struggle
To feel a sense of freedom
From the pain
Of malaise and hunger,
And the maladies
Which from the formative years
Steal their persona;
Fortunate are those…
Whose lives are touched by you.
You have learned and witnessed,
Taught and practiced
The tenets of what it means to give,
And live your dream.
And now, with profound kindness…
You will overwhelm the pity of physical agony,
You will plant seeds of happiness in gardens
Disrupted by blight and sorrow.
You will care when caring seems lost.
You will cry when caring has lost.
You will smile when your kindness creates peace.
And of tomorrow,
You will see
Through mists of uncertainties
Which veil the newly born and older.
And with passion, skills and fervor,
Pursue cure and order
For afflictions of a blameless child.
As no greater worth is there
Than for you to share what
Rests inherent in your heart:
Your Art, Your soul, your sense
Of right and wrong.
And above the rest,
A righteous ethic that strives,
Without pretense, to heal, lifelong.
Ayam (עוֹף)
(a glow)
for our first grandchild, Olivia
we loved before we heard your cries
before we saw wide opened eyes
before we touched and held and kissed
before our tears spilled forth with bliss
we loved you free without condition
and now you're here, our apparition
an image of our sweetest thoughts
that your birth today has brought
the winds of love blow in our minds
inviolate thoughts that seal and bind
the goodness that your life will know
fan embers in your heart-to glow
scorching deep beneath the skin
as your gentle life begins
embraced forever by those who care
who care for every breath of air
you savor; every breath sublime
to love you every moment,
to love you for all time.
and now, Olivia, you have a name
and another, Ilana; yet one, the same
precious child, swaddled with love
as the sun drapes its hues far from above
to warm and to nurture, spark hope and inspire
a life that is whole, for you we desire
and your smiles and giggles, laughs and coos
that delight us today, will bring words that you’ll choose
to speak, and to think, ponder and dream
with a fire in your heart, and a glow that will seem
muted and calm when compared to your passions
to follow the goodness-your parents will fashion
and know sweet child of our child your dear mother
you are beloved for yourself and for no other
so Livi…live long, live well, be strong
never know hatred, angst, pain or sorrow
never know sadness, nor shed sadness’ tears
live with promise, with wonder and love- all your years.
We seek answers for questions which cannot be answered.
We grieve at a time when we should be smiling.
A moment in a century of years which has come too soon,
Unexpectedly, with a force we cannot combat.
Among us, there is no better person.
Among us, no better Physician,
Then this man we gather today to honor.
We cry aloud not just to sound our sadness
But to trumpet our love.
Our thoughts confuse us. Why?
His Life, His Missions are now our memories.
Indelible in our ephemeral thoughts.
We will always hear
his gentle tones of gentle words
And feel the caring others knew when they,
Frightened and sometimes frail,
In desperate need,
Alighted from their illness, free
Of morbid pain and agony.
If we feel richer today…
Amidst the drear of Funeral and Eulogy,
It is because we revere
A man we strive to emulate.
And thus, through death and legacy
We come and magnify our goals,
To unravel every morsel of our souls,
And strive to live as Gordon lived.
Facta non Verba[lxiii]
Open your hands and embrace the
Matters of affairs and intricacies of
Those who need counsel. Let not volumes written
And words carved
Between the cornices of courthouses
And spoken
From the benches of courtrooms
Stand alone in defense. Empower with skills and judgment;
With knowledge gained and growing. Stand tall. Be a watchtower of integrity. A source for security;
Advisor consummate; Trusted advocate. Be proud. Be Noble. Win accolades. Servo puteus, serve well.
Vernalis[lxiv]
Belonging to the Spring
Undaunted, I greet the paradox of spring.
I dream …of golden notes
Floating in the silent night.
Joys of breaths and heartbeats
Simple passions of delight
Sing on winds diaphanous,
Of the glory of the bloom
Which never disappointing,
Soon, bathes all beloved
With perfect hope.
It is the season of opulence
When sweetness obscures
Dark halls of winter's liar
And dew upon the grasses
Cast light of morning's hour
Into the windows of the soul
Where fragments of loveliness…
Of love, coalesce
Into being,
Magnificence.
Self-Examination
"The mass of men lead lives
of quite desperation"[lxv]
i.
With myself, alone I share
Private thoughts of what I care
For truth; for love, for death and birth,
Humility, humanity; my own self-worth.
I have known my traveled paths
Though now uncertain of what fate's cast,
I believe that my life's purpose-
Its true meaning-has yet to surface
Upon the shimmering white-capped sea
Of moral souls; what lie ahead for me?
Shall my vessel point tomorrow
Into the Doldrums filled with sorrow,
Or Eastwards towards the rising sun,
Adrift in days of Halcyon?
I say the latter bests the former,
I've not the fashion of a mourner.
I need to feel what is to be,
Can only be more good for me,
And my family and of Man.
What lies ahead is nobler than
What thus far is fate complete.
...Lotus leaves I will not eat
Nor to Capua make a journey
But with virtuous harmony,
I will meet my destiny
With courage, vigor and integrity.
ii.
Judge not what be chanced our childhood,
Youthful rituals oft more understood
By self than one's mentors,
Balancing rights and wrongs and what-fors.
Yet within the asylum of our youth
Is discovered much of truth.
Cyclonic powers of morality
Awaiting well-nurtured maturity
To awaken like the lily chaste;
Virtues to cherish and embrace.
|
iii.
I awakened in the early night
As the gleam of moon's gray light
Diffused through old cracked window shades,
Listening to radio tunes that made
Echoed songs of adolescent years.
Music that even now I hear.
Music that helps me to recall,
Those wee morning hours all,
Reading, thinking, planning, dreaming,
Sketching, writing, inventing, learning.
Hours, days, months, years,
Preparing for life which today is here.
Introspection had begun,
For I was determined to become
One with science and with humanism,
Brother of Aesculapius, a good physician.
iv.
At this century's sure demise
How (after fifty-six years!) wise
Will I be? What will I have attained?
Dreams, kindled like a flame
in my head for one half century
Or nothing more than mediocrity.
|
Antares[lxvi]
You are my bright star,
Aglow with a radiance far,
Equaled by only Aurora, herself.
You shine in the evening
With a splendor equal to her dawn.
And deep into the night you illumine,
From the soft light cast through the
Frosted panes of the moonlit window.
A score of years has passed. I reflect.
With no regrets, I suspect
Another score or more we will spend
Together, with our children and theirs.
Generations to care; and to share
our love.
Rhapsody
You are a consummate obsession,
A mind's sole possession.
A shadow cast from memory
Of splendid specter and rhapsody.
A venerable vision, if only a dream,
Closer to reality so it seems.
But dreams end abruptly when the body awakens
When from one's mind they are suddenly taken.
Not to appear for seasons to follow,
Yet always returning like the augural swallow.
Now, such dreams return to my mind,
To quest for the truth, be it blessed or unkind.
Heart sounds[lxvii]
When you were twenty-two years old,
And I was twenty-four,
We met and felt a passion deep,
We hadn't felt before.
The evening air was cool and breezy,
The starlit sky was clear
The city's ambient pulse-beats,
No longer could I hear.
For above this din, my heart did pound,
As we spoke those first few words.
And with my senses overwhelmed;
Heart sounds were all I heard.
Returning
I will see you once again,
Before my final dream,
When winter's coat of snow remains,
In springtime pools and streams.
I will gaze within those pools,
Upon your bright reflection;
Mirrored image of virtues true,
A dearest recollection.
I will be with you in love,
Your life I'll rhapsodize.
A deeper passion need not I prove,
When death doth close my eyes.
Samaritan[lxviii]
Bonds of blood cannot bend
For upon these bonds we all depend.
To care for family, we obligate.
When we cannot we designate
Other persons to care and treat,
Persons we trust to bring defeat
To the ailments of those whom we love so much,
With skill and kindness and a caring touch.
I thus acknowledge with true approbation
Your virtues: Trust. Excellence.
Compassion and Inspiration.
.
In Search of Manu [lxix]
"The earth we abuse and the living things we kill
will, in the end, take their revenge, for in
exploiting their presence, we are diminishing our
future."[lxx]
i.
I fear for my cherished land,
With a sorrow in my heart,
As I witness our modernity
Tear the fragile earth apart.
I look above, the chromatic skies
Where hawks and eagles soar,
And tremble silent with my thoughts:
They'll be safe harbors nevermore.
In pain I bare witness as
Emerald columns of evergreen,
Majestic redwood, oak, and elm,
Vanish from our forests' scene.
And of our noble canyons
Where the mighty rivers roar,
Weakened by the will of time,
They collapse upon their shores.
Yes, I fear for my cherished land,
With a sorrow in my heart,
As I witness our modernity
Tear the fragile earth apart.
ii.
I cry for my Nation's living,
Nature's children who must endure
Imminent peril of extinction,
Man, and beast, Rich and poor.
Ancient species' sacred homes,
Vanquished by iron plow;
A necropolis of whooping cranes,
Condors, Wolves, and Spotted Owls.
Habitats of graceful beauty,
Perfumed flowers, and plumage,
Fragmented, isolated, wasted
By our civilization's pillage.
Nor are spared the vibrant seas,
Where Fish and Whale and Dolphin
Struggle to survive a refuge
Ravaged and polluted: humankind's destruction.
Yes, I cry for my nation's Living,
Nature's children who must endure
The imminent peril of extinction,
Man and beast, Rich and poor.
|
iii.
I'll be father to my land,
The earth is my estate.
I'll be teacher to its children.
So shall be my mandate:
I'll not hand industry license
To effuse its waste in our water,
Which destroys the ancient ecosystem:
Tantamount to mass slaughter.
Through treaty, vow, and summit,
My pledge to global neighbors:
Deter cataclysmic collapse;
So our survivors can be our inheritors.
Through my sovereignty I will affirm
That Mankind and Earth are entwined.
Flora and Fauna and each human being,
Cohabit one home; pray we thwart its decline.
Yes, I'll be father to my land,
The earth is my estate.
I'll be teacher to its children.
So shall be my mandate.
Epilogue
"The Earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth."[lxxi]
|
Marushka
I love to explore
the sandy coves
and crunch the spinous shells on the shore,
quite numerous when the tide is low.
Rows of cat-o-nine tails
bow to the wind.
Furled sails
rest motionless like mannequins.
The current creeps slowly
southward; each ripple
a softly
folded wave on calm, mirrored waters.
Riggings sing.
In tiny pools seaweed floats,
whirl and cling
to barnacled pillars and aged boats.
My Marushka, maiden fair
of the sound,
leans to port in breezy air.
Serenely, the sea around
me beckons, as nighttime's shroud,
vaporized by the sun awakening,
disappears among the cloud-
less sky of this great morning.
Credo
Bare no malice, anger,
prejudice or hate and
extinguish
all searing conflagrations
of your fellowman; his plights of
sickness and poverty; his homeless pain
his depressions and day by day strife's.
Abet others who be sicker or poorer,
ailing from greater oppressions, and
look beyond the facades of hypocrisy
and denial and un-roof the truths.
For it is here you will find your naked self;
mind and soul and physical being of your
birthright.
Forego your shelter, your clothes, your moneys.
- all amenities, and stand
stripped to your fragile core,
exposed, and vulnerable.
Primal equality.
Our Voyage
We are not lost, we are not gone
Though beloved, you fear this be.
We are but, on a sojourn,
'midst the solace of the sea.
We'll not request asylum here,
And soon we shall depart,
The world as we have known it,
With much comfort in our hearts.
Our lives have been like orchids,
Thriving in the rain,
Our children cast as seedlings,
Of their flesh, we now remain
In spirit, soul and courage,
They will live what we have taught:
Unbridled deeds of goodness
Impelled, without forethought.
For those who ask if we might feel
A corporal sense of pain,
We whisper but a single line,
"Our God is God humane."
There is a oneness between us now,
Union of bosom and soul,
And it will endure for eternity
May this thought, for you, console.
Israel
There's a song that I hear, it comes in the night
and sounds like the music of dreams,
It tells of the hopes of our sovereign land
and sings of a promise supreme.
There's a light that I see, it rises at dawn,
and gleams like the rays of the sun,
It shines within all of our hearts everyday
and the hearts of our daughters and sons.
There's a scent that I smell, throughout the land
that smells like the lilacs of spring
It sweetens our spirit and brightens our souls,
No more joy could a sense ever bring.
These elations of life all cause me to cry
Tears oh so sweet and so real,
For I have to leave-but I shall return
To my land, to my home, Yisroel.
Solstice [lxxii]
The sun
staring upon me
has stopped
for one immeasurable moment,
a lone pause in an
infinite journey,
a slivered chasm in a
timeless wandering.
The sun
staring upon me
has stopped
to embrace
and welcome me traveler
to the borderless
boundaries of
Eternity.
The sun
staring upon me
has stopped
to comfort;
Its light transcends
the darkness of despondency,
Its warmth melts
the icy crust
of mourning.
The sun
staring upon me
has stopped
to deliver
a quarry
of hope out of hopelessness,
tranquility from turmoil...
...and peaceful dreaming
forever.
Promised Light
I have shed my garments and
With calloused feet walk naked
Into the straw meadows of the dark.
My sustenance though vaporized
Floats like the clouds,
Glisters like the stars.
And as I search and cry in fear
I glance into the blackened sky
To see droplets now appear
Like diamonds from our sacred earth
That burnish in this darkest night
To become dreams of promised light.
The Stones and The Sand[lxxiii]
There is not much our lives to long
but breath the air, hear a song,
walk beneath some sapling pines
search a dream, slow the time,
See truths distant horizons hide
float on waves at even-tide.
You touch my golden hair
With silken fingers
and hands afire with
Embers of love.
Like earthen stones
And sea-born sand
You are the infinite
Minerals of my life.
With you,
I am the mountains,
The forests and the seas.
With you
I have foundation,
Elements, for my being.
Every breath I breath
is for you,
And you, for me.
For always...
my dearests. my family.
For Annie[lxxiv],
“The camera is an instrument that teaches
people how to see without a camera.
If our mind be our camera, memory its film,
Eyes, a lens through which we view;
Then you be our image of dearest affection,
A childhood unveiled, a light shining through.
As dreams of tomorrow, unfold and evolve,
To flourish in times which challenge and try;
The Life thus far lived becomes your foundation,
A friend for those moments, soon to pass by.
Joy comes often to those you have touched,
Fashioned from unselfish caring and deeds;
Without provocation, or retribution,
Your kindness befalls friends and family in need.
We cannot overstate the pride we both feel,
A pride that will grow with each passing day;
Dear Annie, we wish you years of contentment,
As we watch your “commencement” to High School today.
Rubicon [lxxv]
Our home is
Filled with love,
And you.
Flowing.
A caress of the sea.
Sweet.
A chant of the wind.
Glowing.
Electricity in our veins...
Pride
Bright dreams.
Promise.
On mountains draped
With mist;
Mystery.
Freely
Fly with butterflies.
Love gardens;
Love deeds,
Worth,
Compassion.
Ensheathe yourself
With the garments of humanity:
Morality.
Hope.
Beauty.
Let aspersions of the moment, melt.
Savor peaceful dreaming,
A silent poem,
A mellow thought.
Commence and share.
Plant flowers
In arid air
Where misfortune breathes.
"Guide seekers to the land of bliss."
Begin each day with a kiss
Be aware.
We Love you.
For Annie[lxxvi]
"This is not the end,
it is not even the beginning of the end.
But it is perhaps the end of the beginning."
Winston Churchill
Our hearts are all a-flutter; our minds are full of song;
The May winds are rejoicing; as we celebrate day-long.
Honoring your learning, loving who you are;
Another blessed daughter with a fate to cast a-far.
We pine inward at the flight of time, but openly we smile
And beam for your achievements and your loving, giving style.
Our pride is like a mountain peak, no higher can we climb,
You have finished your baccalaureate, in four years the proscribed time.
And now more learning to pursue, commencement if you will,
Preparation for tomorrow's dreams, a lifetime to fulfill.
We wish content and hope for you, love, success and more,
And the wonders of your life ahead;
The Means[lxxvii]
“The Existence of virtue
depends entirely upon its use”
Cicero
My friend.
Our Integrity is measured
Not by the expense of time
But by its means:
How we live,
Whom we love,
What we sense and feel.
Fueled by spirit,
Kindled by reason,
We assume a purpose.
Furrows of our palms
Map our travail;
Fingers, its instruments,
Voice its praise.
Traversing age of years,
We are valued by our deeds.
And our prosperity becomes
The reward of our virtues.
Reminisci[lxxviii]
Naked are our thoughts,
Our souls are crying..
We are your voices,
Denying,
Sorrow’s silence.
For as we speak, alas,
We sing;
And proclaim to all
Our love for you
And from you the love
You bring.
Amare[lxxix]
Forlorn, with tears
And cries, am I.
To lose you to your death
Without but even gasp or sigh,
Save a wisp of Angels breath;
…the darkest sorrow
I have known. Yet,
Your image burnt in my
Soul is my gift, my grace,
And always will I see your face
Upon the simmer of
Placid ponds
And in the clouds where
Sunbeams hide
And raindrops form,
…And I will speak kind words
And write of you
And sing in sweet demure,
In early morning's dew
And in the crown of daffodils
Which bloom amidst the storms
Swept cross my brow,
In every dream
In which it seems
You come to me.
My love forever
Do I avow.
Tendrils[lxxx]
How we love to come here
With our innocent hearts,
Here where blossoms bloom,
Garden-trees flower and
Shadows shiver in gentle winds;
Where fertile soil sows its fruits
Hosting moments of passing time.
Where in early morning, dew
Drips from satin petals
And tendrils of daylight stream
Until whispers of evening breezes
Float off the Sound;
As our wondering thoughts
In silent moments
Of peaceful dreaming
Lighten, and at last,
Our hearts adorned,
Unfold to plant unfailing roots
And reach for moonbeams
And beyond.
Respice, et Prospice
Look backward and forward (L)
Passion remains, privilege endures,
while life and lifeless,
each lifted by my hands, coexist.
On journey long, journey full,
with origins beneath golden skies,
I strive to heal, diminish fear;
making real, priceless promises of life each day.
And yearn…for it is not time
to reach the edge where breath beats
and heart sighs succumb,
still from imagination and contribution
nor where dreams drop to stagnant pools,
ripple towards silted banks then disappear
into crevices carved by debris
and rain and all things natural.
Not time to leave visions
of reformation, reclamation;
to leave pathways lit by opportunity
covered with vines of spirit
and climbs of renewal.
But a time of great hope.
Hope to affect lives, teach tenets,
create paradigms; counsel, care, mentor,
affirm a promise; a fate perhaps
as fortitude, my foundation of resolve,
rushes in my blood, every pulse a wave
approaching unfamiliar shores,
mighty and assured.
I will leave love behind
but will not lose it.
It will not fade to vapors
as common as fog
but rather guide me to be proud
of its wondrous years of caring and of healing;
years that turn now not to clouds but to earth,
To root something once unimaginable:
to marvel again and again
and by word and deed,
to create and bond
what means and brings for all, good life...
...a good birth and beyond.
Silence
No longer do I fear my death,
For my weakened body now reborn,
Will witness every dawn of every morn
That is yet to cast itself upon
The remnants of my past.
And thus, the light above me now,
With rays aglow in silent symmetry,
Will forever shine far into that eternity
Where I will be
At peace.
Sidney[lxxxi]
Clothed in winter's vale of lace,
Stands an aged tree.
Awaiting springtime's youthful face,
To birth its hues of green.
Yet here upon this winter eve,
A birth did not await.
A daughter whom from love conceived,
Born pure and delicate.
Her father's hands were first to touch,
This soft and graceful form.
A special being to love so much,
And rejoice with each new morn.
So, as the snow drapes on the boughs,
Of olden elms and oaks.
Know well this child of winter now,
Is blessed with spring's new hopes.
Rhapsody II
Gone are ten thousand days
of perfumed winds
bellowed from the
lungs of God with
gusts and drafts that
scattered wandering seeds
of despair, craving
earthen roots to anchor
their promise of reborn
hope.
The Tree
Be free
Imprisoned one,
Last remains
Of a fallen tree
Fractured by an
August storm,
Sapped and devoured,
Hollowed from decay,
Destitute of life's
Precious humors.
Debris encrusts your
Body like a death shroud,
Yet the poet knows your spirit,
The artist your beauty.
Be free.
Antares
We are a constellation.
Our wonders and turmoil:
Of caring; grasps science and skills with hope;
Of understanding; grasps measurement and analysis with insight.
Caring; understanding;
Beacons of what drives us to do what is best.
We are a constellation.
Compelled by mission.
Consumed with passion;
No one leader;
A team of many;
With many bright stars
But none brighter
Than whom we honor
A devoted voice
For the patient;
A just and reasoned voice
For us all.
A thank you cannot be enough
But our blessings are abundant.
Thank you and greatest of wishes.
Nadiyb[lxxxii]
Truth.
The frigid air frosts our skins. March, unrelenting, chills us.
The carapace of virtue stripped bear with one last breath; a sigh,
a thought, a song, a prayer, a plea, perhaps a smile.
Aware that we must all leave but before, must cleave
from every moment every morsel of that which humanity has gifted us.
He knows of scythes that gleaned, of seeds spilled then
rearranged, in wombs of fragile, fallen leaves where rooted
embryos await to season next; incarnate, reverent, to bare and bloom,
to live again and die and live and die and live.
And we know the seeds of all nobility remain alive in deeds
of noble men as he.
Of men that live and write of worth and truth
and yearn to teach, abet and heal and love the words of centuries past,
unfinished some, and others cast anew to burn in hearts where shadows
rise and fall to crave his wisdom, pillars forged by mind and hands for all.
His scalpel carves it path. The body, impotent to maladies;
thirsts for harmonies of cure by gentle ways and artful skills
to dignify the countless souls infirmed and helpless wills;
and of those he healed, now left to wail, doleful as diaphones
in morning fog they mourn until they sleep.
Truth.
Our heavy hearts will lighten as we remember brighter moments.
His deeds bequeath immortal dreams. Petrified in our senses,
visions indelible, a benevolence to appear and reappear like seasons,
and remind us that we shared in words or voice, in thoughts or touch,
the sacred air he breathed each day.
Distant Sunsets
We look to distant sunsets,
Where muted dreams are dreamed
And searing pain's extinguished
To learn that in the silence
We can still hear music play,
Velvet notes which cushion
Every thought of darkest sorrow,
And believe despite our pining
There will live in distant sunsets
Forever thoughts of you today
And in our muted dreams tomorrow.
Erinyes[lxxxiii]
What I am, I am.
My afflictions are my affections.
My chaos, civility.
Tides pause, breaths sigh.
Those who dream, dream.
While I with pleasure cast
Ravages and travail obscene,
To a venomous sea, to shatter
Upon the cliffs of despair,
Forgotten forever
As I travel, un-traveled avenues
Of promise.
Quietude of the Stars
For Mary Rose with love[lxxxiv]
i.
in profound silence,
tears cry into the abyss of eternity.
blossoms pause, scentless
for a moment, to mark
the grip of grief we witness,
a mortal conflagration, senseless,
beyond the reason we know or have known.
agony, seared into our hearts
by a flaming stake of fate to reside
everlasting leaving us lonely, afraid,
mere broken remains of healers
enslaved by her pain
and the void of her beloveds.
ii.
infinite stars yearn to glow and
crackle in the night sky,
but today neither glimmer nor glisten;
mired in a quietude of blackest blackness,
shadows in a universe amid
the lengths and depths of piercing despair...
...yet each remains a vigil;
each awaits the awakening
of hope that always comes
from dreams and prayer
that drive even the bleakest and the weakest
towards sanguine promise.
as too we wait, we pray, we cry,
for the precious, interred, and
and for her to awaken, eyes to open
to the majesty beyond the sky
of bluest, blue, where quiescent stars
arise to shine again
to crackle and glimmer and glisten
in their infinity.
Alcyone[lxxxv]
Dedicated to family, friends and colleagues
for the New Year, 2020
“...then for the teeming quietest, happiest days of all!
The brooding and blissful halcyon days!”[lxxxvi]
Let us wish to:
retreat from all unjust suffering,
banish afflictions, vaporize pain;
fashion peaceful harbors and orchards,
cultivate gardens, plant trees, harvest grain.
dream of lyres’ and harps’ splendid music,
watch beautiful children dance and be gay;
never see sadness and crying bear witness,
keep illness and sorrow far, far away.
abolish the hunger that threatens the fragile,
crave for vision and prescient wisdom;
nourish each other with love and kindness,
live with bountiful hope and compassion.
seek out always life’s streaming sunbeams,
dissolve each dark cloud in sunlight’s way;
entwine outstretched hands with one another...
…and turn all tomorrows to halcyon days.
Anemoi[lxxxvii]
You who soon will light
On wing tomorrow
And soar to cross the roads
The rivers and the borders;
Breaths of change to cast
From depths of wondrous purpose past,
And build with blocks found here
That anchor work and deeds
And many passions dear;
Fear and feel no void,
As forever sealed
Like gold in vaults
Within its earthen mines,
Your memories will be never stolen
From the purses of your mind.
You at the core, the soul,
The vitreous beauty of place and time,
Your home to first breathes
Day after day after day...and year after year.
Where special moments
Awaken miracles, as
You behold each child’s cry,
A wish for all to hear.
And fervor for each,
A wind-rush, bending stalks
And stems earthbound
With a gravity, holding fast …a witness from the start;
Outstretched hands to touch
To love, to yearn with open heart.
Now, you will flourish
And you will heal
As you have healed,
Forward as the sun each day
And you will smile when you remember,
Those you knew from yesterday,
Yet best is what needs to be,
Each to march your destiny
Like royalty towards fertile fields
Where hands and hearts again combine
To better lives of those who need
Devotion, skills and presence
That you so beautifully define.
Sinan
The compass or "south-governor"
(sÄ«nán å¸å—)
To find our way when night shines black,
And life's work struggles to raise the bar;
To create a difference for all on earth,
At times, you know, we need a star.
The bar of truths that science lends,
To souls and thoughts of certain minds;
To genius rare -yet here today,
A man whose equal none will find.
A granite pillar holding strong,
His vision un-roofs mysteries;
And heavens to reach with inquiry,
To learn what makes us live and be.
An artist etching intaglio,
On canvases of academe;
Sustaining us his protégés
And our collective, purposed dreams.
A Magnet he for his own ilk,
Humanists, ethicists, scientists, scholars;
Venerable, formidable, leaders and friends,
Who trust, revere, respect and honor.
Yes, when our night shines black with doubt,
When all seems hazy, uncertain and grey;
Nate remains our enduring compass,
With prescient wisdom, illuming our way.