Poets’ Corner

If truth be told…

That was a way of putting it —T.S. Eliot, East Coker Conditional, at best. In other words. Needless to say. When all is said and done. Thinking things through. Seeing them. So to speak. A word to the wise. Better left unsaid. What isn’t golden: falling into place. The word made flesh, or was the…

Trinities

  I the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost (I John 5: 7) The spirit, the Word, and the Father –Three in One – from eternity, gatheredThe earth, sky, and waters together. II the spirit and the water and the blood (I John 5: 8) The spirit, the water, the bloodBear witness on earth…

Words

Let me not hasten words, as wind the leaves Of fretful autumn’s dissipating dither, Which all the rains of spring, and breath he breathes, Fail utterly to wake or make un-wither. May buds that burgeon out from tender reaching, Rooted deep in thoughts that take their time Ripen most from patience’ trammels teaching Tendrils surely,…

The Rose Window

by Rainer Maria Rilke In there, the languid pacing of their paws creates a stillness that can almost daze; then one of the great cats abruptly draws your gaze (which periodically strays) forcefully into its great eye, and there your gaze, held fast as if within the whirl of a maelstrom, stays afloat a little…

To Reap the Whirlwind

When, loud and lauded, grifters drift along Who crease their purple pants and sable jackets, I think to beg my memory for a song That bundles sunshine up in yellow packets. Sometimes, however, all I hear is a racket. When funnel clouds demolish mobile homes, We lose both cozy throws and stylish chromes.

Ordinary Time

On a sweeter day of sun and windy sky, The hermit stands in his doorway drinking tea. Though spring declares itself, it’s only January. These gentle southern mountains seem to sigh With longing. Above the trees, a hawk’s thin cry Unspools, a silver thread of hunger. He Listens. Hears his heart’s reply, its plea For…

The Endurance of Memory

My sister Laurene at twenty returns as a vision: a young bride, slender in a blue suit carrying a simple bouquet of white flowers. It’s May 31st, the 35th anniversary of her death,warm and sunny in the Gulf South as hurricaneseason approaches. I am not surprised by this image, remembering her years before she bore…

(c) 2019 North American Anglican