Shades

jo'b   

 

                              Thank you for welcoming me,

                              Phantoms of the periphery,

                              Faint souls there to the side

                              Who vanish when I turn to look,

                              You shy ghosts of caring,

                              But not yet, not yet.

The Beautiful Day

jo'b.  

               

               Such a cool, overcast morning,

               I am easily pleased, it doesn't take much,

               A slow-motion sky, soft weather, 

              The weeds of the field in bloom, even

               The invasives, like me, and then

               The bullfrogs grunting in the afternoon,

               Then the doves eulogizing the dusk.

               Such a day, such a day — how sweet it can be,

               Almost enough to make me believe

               The worst won't ever happen.

https://www.bing.com/videos/riverview/relatedvideo?q=u2+beautiful+day&&mid=53F2915EE68D01C848AD53F2915EE68D01C848AD&churl=https%3a%2f%2fwww.youtube.com%2fchannel%2fUCpd21W3qWyzIl8-PXvyDA2g&FORM=VAMGZC

Zazen

jo'b   

                         Sitting in your own yard,

                         Rich in time for now,

                         Wealth is nowhere else to be,

                         And peace is a silent sky.

Mostly I Hope

jo'b   

                         Mostly I hope that the storm eases,

                         that the power stays on,

                         that June turns into July,

                         that rain sweetens the blackberries,

                         that drifting is the only reality,

                         that the spirit transcends the body,

                         that you read this and know it's for you,

                         that you feel less alone.

          

Staying On

American Chestnut, a survivor                      jo'b   

I have traveled far

under the chestnut tree,

or so it seems,

so many have I left behind,

or maybe they left me behind,

staying on as I have,

watching the sky go by,

the seasons flutter past,

the birds leaving and coming back,

(oh, the coming back,)

a few humans rounding the bend

on the lower gravel road,

the children with sunlight in their hair,

running joyful in the oatfield,

growing, setting sail,

eight good dogs wandering off

to lie down under the old apple tree,

too many good women waving farewell,

each night the stars a little dimmer,

a little farther off,

as I add another annual ring,

each day a little firmer in the ground,

still putting down my roots

under the chestnut tree,

traveling far.

Then

jo'b   

Companion of the infinite

We may find peace together then

I cherish my illusions

Everafter

jo'b   

               

               Light gains the value of rareness               

               seen through a darker lens.              

               Where I am now.              

               What I had then.             

         

               All I know to do               

               is to keep on writing.

              

               Owls call in the dusk.               

Love Story

From the public domain   

                    I came for you,

                    all leather and chrome and rumble,

                    and stole you away,

                    twisting the handle for speed,

                    your arms around me, hugging my back,

                    leaning together into the curves,

                    wild with the wind in our mouths,

                    powering over the hills and into the sky,

                    mad to be wreckage forever.

—with lines by James Dickey

To One Who Also Waits

JO'B   

                    Pause in your flight,

                    Turn yourself into the wind,

                    Damselfly on a metronone,

                    Daybreak, nightfall, daybreak, nightfall,

                    Lover of the night,

                    Mark time in the light of the sun,

                    Eyes closed in the rattle of wings,

                    Take flight in the dark,

                    With lanterns strung over the fields,

                    Pulsing,

                    You are not alone.

 

Early and Late

JO'B. 

Doves call in the half-light.               

                    It's not a poem,               

                    the poet said,               

                    Without an ache in it.               

          Nor is it a life.