Monday, July 29, 2019

All That's Past- Poem by Walter de la Mare



Very old are the woods;
And the buds that break
Out of the brier's boughs,
When March winds wake,
So old with their beauty are—
Oh, no man knows
Through what wild centuries
Roves back the rose.

Very old are the brooks;
And the rills that rise
Where snow sleeps cold beneath
The azure skies
Sing such a history
Of come and gone,
Their every drop is as wise
As Solomon.

Very old are we men;
Our dreams are tales
Told in dim Eden
By Eve's nightingales;
We wake and whisper awhile,
But, the day gone by,
Silence and sleep like fields
Of amaranth lie.



Walter de la Mare

Ah! Sun-flower- Poem by William Blake


Ah Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun:
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the travellers journey is done.

Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow:
Arise from their graves and aspire,
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.

Thursday, February 21, 2019

PRESENCE


I said:  How can I escape?
With the freed sighs to forget
The dark and creeping heave?

Where could he be, at this hour
When such unwelcome wolves at the door,
And breath waits on battered resignation?

I heard someone say, of exiles at the Holocaust,
how they heard he was with them there
On his cross, sharing it with them.

I sighed again, and went deeply inward
Into where the sadness lurked,
In the small curved fetal pose.

In the trembling warmth and the tremor,
The rhythmic sound of tensed nostrils,
I sat with him, both of us alone in the darkness

But for each other. Amen.