Light Through the Trees
Short poetry fragments
A series of unrelated short poems. Why? Because I have an attention span that matches the length of my poetry.
There are riddles at the heart of things:
The world is full of great beauty
And a heartbreaking desolation,
Full of tender kindness
And unspeakable cruelty,
The world sings of its joy
In the freshness of the new day
And wails out its mourning
At the dying of the light
We live in its mystery
And reflect the puzzle
So that we are strange to each other
A seed will crave the light and air
Which it has never known,
The yearning of its heartfelt hope
Will push aside the stone,
’Til bursting from beneath the sod
And asking for the sky,
This fragile thing will claim its right,
Just like you, or I
There is a dot above a lowercase ‘i’
This is to remind you that your head
Lives in a separate reality
To the rest of you
The journey of a lifetime
Is the gentle, therapeutic reunion
Of head and heart
I am grateful for humble miracles:
The quiet ease of dawn and first birdsong,
The startling explosion of fruit in the mouth,
The unnecessary fragrance of oranges,
The stubborn virtue of weeds,
All the profligate generosity of the Earth
When you sing with your eyes closed,
Standing alone in your kitchen,
And your voice flows from your heart,
Without artifice,
Without constraint,
The universe listens,
Spellbound
