Direct as dawning, chill / And glowing, I / Know you in mind; but distant still. / Help me to spy / Your omnipresence; here ...
A Prayer
Category: Poetry
Who Only Stand and Wait
He buried the coin alone, down in a field, / As mothers bury stillbirths; partly shamed, / He cursed and grumbled as he dug and kneeled / Because a part of him lay dead, unnamed ...
In the Crypt of Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini
In jawbone tondo, / Blossom of blades, / Our osseous rigging / Flaps up to God. / Beneath the bone ring ...
To Mithridates
The Overman, if “man,” and not a saint, / Draws worlds of pain to him at board and trestle, / Eats well, whose palate deadly truth and taint ...
My Thirst is Your Presence
With the boredom of the longest of days / I find myself in your presence / With the final plight of these pleasurable experiences / I find myself in your presence
A Noble Aim
I have pains and sorrows just as others do. / I go to Jesus and say the words my Lord spoke to His Father in the garden, / “Take this cup from me.” / With a noble spirit I think a second thought / “Yet not my will but thine be done.”
Mine’s Not Hallelujah
Mine’s not hallelujah / The song I’m asked to sing / For silence calls / In echoing halls / And bells refuse to ring / So if you hear the chorus / That rises in my heart
Anything More Lovely
Is there anything more lovely than songbirds in sun-brushed boughs / Or soft beams that first awaken dreams and make the streams to run / Is there anything more beautiful than wildflowers on the hill / That pierce the steep with purples deep and violet in the sun / Yet what could be more joyous than nighttime ‘neath dazzling skies / As singsong flames and fireflies frame forests with their glow...
Logos on an Afternoon
The green world gushes feeling, overflows meaning from a cup / And I, drinking deep, suffer yet that boundless desire / For the blood-red wine of the everlasting hills. / Who will drink it if not I? For swine know not their pearls; / Will the world, undrunk, wait full and wretched? / Or shall it, shucked of man, show empty?
The One Thing
In a very low place With very little light A man was found By God with might Who dared descend And garments rend Seeing his child With none to defend And did that man Escape that place? Owing to strength In human race?