Why this?
21/02/10 09:13 Filed in: General
Welcome! This
is a small playground for Joseph. I’ll post a few poems
and photos here for anyone who happens to stumble
across this quiet corner of the Net. Enjoy!
Made Ready
21/02/10 09:01 Filed in: Poetry
You have
stirred
the muddy earth
at the bottom of my well
I can not see
you close by
only sense your tears
We are torn cloth
waiting mending
We are fallow fields
waiting tilling
The morning waits
too long
will day come?
Then I look
up
into the
eyes of stars
and remember
We are here
for just this
to be mended
plowed
made ready
to see our perfection
the muddy earth
at the bottom of my well
I can not see
you close by
only sense your tears
We are torn cloth
waiting mending
We are fallow fields
waiting tilling
The morning waits
too long
will day come?
Then I look
up
into the
eyes of stars
and remember
We are here
for just this
to be mended
plowed
made ready
to see our perfection
Praise
21/02/10 09:00 Filed in: Poetry
Make praise
easy
open yourself--
stare at what you love,
a hungry owl
Then praise will come unbidden,
a ripe Gravenstein
picked in the afternoon heat
the flesh still cool
from its temple of leaves
Praise will come on the west wind
laden with moisture
stirring prayer flags
speaking of solace and hope
Praise is easy
except when you stop
seeing what you love
losing yourself in the junk yard of thought
Praise whatever fills you with
the smell of toast and marmalade
or rosewater and talc
whatever you love the most
your children’s scent after a rain
your lover’s after a storm
yourself when everything but praise
is put aside
open yourself--
stare at what you love,
a hungry owl
Then praise will come unbidden,
a ripe Gravenstein
picked in the afternoon heat
the flesh still cool
from its temple of leaves
Praise will come on the west wind
laden with moisture
stirring prayer flags
speaking of solace and hope
Praise is easy
except when you stop
seeing what you love
losing yourself in the junk yard of thought
Praise whatever fills you with
the smell of toast and marmalade
or rosewater and talc
whatever you love the most
your children’s scent after a rain
your lover’s after a storm
yourself when everything but praise
is put aside
Fall
21/02/10 09:00 Filed in: Poetry
the last leaf
of the japanese maple
fell today
its ruddy body
laying on the grass:
how brief the green season
how silent its passing.
in stillness I bent down
touched its roughened edge
the memory of longer days
flooding me with light and longing
does the maple
dream of spring?
its leaves unfolding their prayers
for another season rooted
in the dark soil of my yard
or is it only I
still restless with desire
that resists the coming winter?
fell today
its ruddy body
laying on the grass:
how brief the green season
how silent its passing.
in stillness I bent down
touched its roughened edge
the memory of longer days
flooding me with light and longing
does the maple
dream of spring?
its leaves unfolding their prayers
for another season rooted
in the dark soil of my yard
or is it only I
still restless with desire
that resists the coming winter?
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