Autumn (2010)

Another autumn rests upon the land,
Quiet and slumberous, ripe and out of time,
The summer a memory, the sun that used to climb
Now southward sinks again, its old command.
For thirty years I’ve known the seasons’ grand
And brilliant goodbye, the final chime
Of life, which turns so quickly from its prime,
Submitting to the laws that none withstand.

I walk this day with you, three autumns less,
You in the hot July of beauty’s pride
And I in August prime.  Of happiness
And future things: of children, wonder-eyed,
And autumn age, I think but don’t express.
For I wonder if you’ll still be at my side.

Canada Day (2010)

Where have the great ones gone, the proud display
Along the dimming hall of history?
They forged a nation true and strong and free,
And dreamt of us and lived for our own day.
But from our thoughts the great have gone away,
We lose them as we lose our memory,
And glory in the opulence we see,
No longer knowing how we came this way.
No, no, the great no longer catch the eye,
Instead the parties vie for thoughtless power,
Their leaders peddle policies and try
To win us with the baubles of the hour.
But some remember and sense the greats’ disgust
At how these little men betray their trust.

I Know of a Rose (2011)

I know of a rose that shall not die,
Which blooms forever in my heart,
The passion of my inner eye.

What roots in earth cannot deny
That what must come must too depart,
Yet there is a rose that shall not die.

She blooms for all beneath the sky
With joy and spirit – the greatest part
And passion of my inner eye.

And even as the sea must sigh
For waters carried far apart
I think of the rose that shall not die:

For waters return to the sea’s deep cry
By rivers that wend and whirl and dart.
For the passion of my inner eye

There will not be that last goodbye,
For she is me and I am part
Of her, my love and inner eye,
The rose I love that shall not die.

Like You (2011)

The light of love and joy is in his eyes,
Though strenuous the effort of his days;
Like you, he wants to live before he dies.

Though born into a world of tears and cries,
Of hardships that dishearten and amaze,
The light of love and joy is in his eyes.

We suffer: that is something life implies –
There’s no escape, it falls so many ways.
Like you, he wants to live before he dies:

He wants the bliss and grief that life supplies,
The heartbreak and the rapture of love’s craze.
The light of love and joy is in his eyes,

While we, with perfect bodies, feel surprise
That broken things should also warrant praise.
Like you, he wants to live before he dies,

In spite of hardships most could scarce surmise,
So take the time to meet his even gaze.
The light of love and joy is in his eyes;
Like you, he wants to live before he dies.

By the shores of the Ottawa (2011)

It’s true that through these months we have not known
The way.  Nor can we tell how we have come
To still be here, together, closer grown.
A miracle, I think – the sacred sum
Of prophecy and hope, to which we’ve clung.
So now, once more, before the throne
Of God, I pray for grace with worry’s tongue,
For some small sign to know we’re not alone.

I pray and lift my eyes to search the sky.
I pause upon a solitary cloud:
It blossoms to a king before my eye –
High heaven’s king!  Then swirling like a shroud
It blooms again as you: at peace, at rest,
Soft-curved as on a bed, with a lifting breast.

Sunbathing in Spring (2011)

Oh do not let this moment have an end!
But let it linger on through lazy hours,
Here on the soft spring grass, where soon the flowers
Will raise their glorious heads, and weave and bend
And pray to the sky its manna-rains to send –
But not yet!  Oh do not let those vernal showers
Disturb the sweet rest of her and I, for ours
Is such a short time, the years like moments spend.
For if this life be not as we are now,
As I, upon her skin trace words of love,
As she, exquisite, pressing brow to brow,
Anoints my lips with kisses from above –
Still, I will say I’ve seen the holy dove
That sings of mysteries words do not allow.

Epigrams Inspired by the Inscriptions in the Library of Congress - XI (2009)

    51
“There is but one temple in the universe, and that is the body of man.”

Blessed is he whose body is a holy place, where God may dwell;
And not an empty whitewashed tomb, a heaven cloaking hell.


    52-55
“This  is the state of man, today he puts forth the tender leaves of hope;
Tomorrow blossoms and bears his blushing honours thick upon him;
Comes then blind fury with the abhorred shears and slits the thin spun life;
The third day comes a frost and nips his root and then he falls.”

Naked and helpless, we entered as we left this mortal life,
And in between we took what joy we could and bore the strife;
Yesterday, today, forever would all of us have passed away:
Then three days came and went which wrought an everlasting way.


    56
“Too low they build who build beneath the stars.”

They say, “arise and reach unto the stars!” But even more I say,
“Reach beyond mere finitude, to that which gives to each its ray.”


    57
“The web of life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together.”

The hardest lesson I’ve had to learn seems still a mystery:
That God can view the good and bad and love them equally.


    58
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty.”

Beautiful poet of woe, like stars your works shall always blaze,
And make your darkest nights eclipse the brightest of our days.


Conclusion

And so I end these thoughts, and so let nothing more be said;
If they have any wisdom, may they thrive though I be dead.

Epigrams Inspired by the Inscriptions in the Library of Congress - X (2009)

    46
“The true university of these days is a collection of books.”

What shall a student do when school is propagating lies:
That truth does not exist, and that what lives is really dead,
That man is just an animal with more malicious eyes,
And humankind a parasite which nature’s heart has fed?

Thank God that books exist, to which a student still may turn
And commit scholastic blasphemy: to seek the truth, and learn.


    47
“The fault is not in our stars but in ourselves that we are underlings.”

How many men, great conquerors, who had trophies line their shelves,
Could win the world, and break its back, and yet were slaves themselves?


    48
“Beholding the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still air of delightful studies.”

The commotion of the world will jostle on
Till time itself is dead and gone;
So seek those moments of timeless repose,
When one may pause and ponder where he goes.


    49
“Dreams, books are each a world.
Books we know are a substantial world,
Both pure and good.”

Dreams and books may be like founts, from which good proverbs burst;
But fools dream too, and also read, and twist the best to worst.


    50
“Studies perfect nature and are perfected by experience.”

Studies alone will make one soft;
At learning brute experience scoffed!
Combined they bring sweet balance to the soul,
The blessings of wisdom and self-control.

Epigrams Inspired by the Inscriptions in the Library of Congress - IX (2009)

    41
“They are never alone who are accompanied by noble thoughts.”

Reading makes us many friends, who enter in our souls to dwell,
Who strengthen us when life contends, and make a heaven out of hell.

    42
“It is the mind that makes the man and our vigor is in our immortal soul.”

A word of wisdom feeds the mind and fills the hungry soul;
Yet fools will die with bellies stretched and reaching for another bowl.

    43
“There is no work of genius which has not been the delight of mankind.”

Some people are blessed with an inscrutable power,
Which delves deep, deep beneath the ways of things,
To places where diamonds are wrought from common coal
And crystalline waters gather in secret springs.
Such treasures illume with strange, unearthly lights,
With power to scatter the darkest of our nights.

    44
“The universal cause acts to one end, but acts by various laws.”

Could the Many exist before the One?
Could there be much when nothing was begun?
Could Two be made if One came not to be?
Could the Finite come before Infinity?


    45
“Nature is the art of God.”

Nature is the art of God, who paints the thoughtless earth and sky;
But we are free to choose our hues, for whom and how we wish to die.

Epigrams Inspired by the Inscriptions in the Library of Congress - VIII (2009)

    36
“The true shekinah is man.”

And so it was, when all was formed, that God was gracious in His plan;
In everything His face beams forth, but most of all in woman and in man.


    37
“Tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
sermons in stones and good in everything.”

The tome of nature’s splendour is most marvellous to read,
For it tells us of its Author, of the wonder of His character and creed.


    38
“Man is one world and hath another to attend him.”

Imagination makes itself a garden of a wilderness,
Where every bud and floret has a poem to express,
Where loveliness is order and a harmony of peace,
And skylarks sing celestial hymns which never fade nor cease;

Imagination suffers when the heart turns flinty hard,
And all that serves us suffers when humanity is scarred;
An unhappy world attends on us; I pray we find the might
To build an earthly image of our subtle, inner light.


    39
“Vain, very vain, the weary search to find that very bliss which only centers in the mind.”

Long will you seek for happiness, yet never find its home,
If over the pastures of pleasure and pain you choose to graze and roam.


    40
“Creation’s heir, the world, the world is mine.”

The world is yours as it is mine, but only for a certain time;
To us dominion is leased, that the kingdom be not lessened, but increased.

Epigrams Inspired by the Inscriptions in the Library of Congress - VII (2009)

    31
“Only the actions of the just smell sweet and blossom in the dust.”

The material world is fed or famished by earth’s inconstant rains and soils,
But the soul is sustained, amid dust or flood, with food that never spoils.

Long, long ago, a Greek was silenced for speaking truth to those who would not hear;
To dust his enemies’ names are lost, yet his endures, forever just, forever sweet and dear.


    32
“Man raises but time weighs.”

The works up-raised by the hands of men are weighed by heavy Time,
But works of the weightless mind and soul shall everlasting climb.


    33
“The noblest motive is the public good.”

Commonwealths of cats, democracies of dogs,
Egalitarian eagles and fraternities of frogs;
As lurid as they would look, as appallingly absurd,
Are those societies of men where “public good” is never heard.


    34
“A little learning is a dangerous thing
Drink deep or taste not of the Perian spring.”

One man is wisely foolish, and another is foolishly wise,
The one by folly prospers, the other by wisdom dies.


    35
“Learning is but an adjunct to oneself.”

To live and yet to never once inquire of ourselves,
Is like to garnering all of life’s most lovely, happy books,
But never giving more regard than sidelong, sour looks,
Leaving them dressed in dead and drying dust upon their shelves.

Epigrams Inspired by the Inscriptions in the Library of Congress - VI (2009)

    26
“In nature all is useful, all is beautiful.”

The beauty of the natural world is savage; humans make it sweet,
And useful by their labour, and perfected when two lovers meet.


    27
“The history of the world is the biography of great men.”

To change the world is not for many hearts, such volume is not theirs to exercise;
But for whom it is, and those who feel more deeply, it unfolds before their eyes. 


    28
“The first creature of God was the light of sense, the last was the light of reason.”

By heaven’s decree the first shall be last, and the last shall be raised to first,
Who abides by this is blessed in life, but who doesn’t shall be cursed.


    29
“The light shineth in the darkness and the darkness comprehended it not.”

Not all who ever live shall love the splendours of the light,
For many are seduced by the enticements of the night.


    30
“Art is long and time is fleeting.”

When time has torn down our obelisks, and our glories have worn and waned away,
What shall remain to speak for us but thoughts preserved in colour, song and clay?

Epigrams Inspired by the Inscriptions in the Library of Congress - V (2009)

    21
“No real poet ever wove in numbers all his dreams”

Poets are tiny weavers, weaving parts of God’s eternal tapestry;
And while they weave are dreamers, dreaming forth by parts His mystery.


    22
“Love and life, united twin mysteries, different yet the same.”

Nothing that lives or lived or will, if nobly so, exists without some love;
But love could not exist, I think, without some ceaseless blessing from above,
Which makes us wonder at its secret springs and the mysteries thereof.


    23
“Love may strive but vain is the endeavour all its boundless riches to express.”

Glorious is love’s infinitude, distending ever in the willing soul,
That it might never lack new thoughts, to more and still more fittingly extol.


    24
“Art and love speak and their words must be like sighings of illimitable forests.”

The forest becomes a rustling symphony, whenever the unseen wind goes flowing by;
So humankind, by love’s soft breath, is made to sing, and stir, and moan, and sigh.


    25
“All are but parts of one stupendous whole,
Whose body nature is, and God the soul.”

As Kepler found, among the heavenly spheres, there dwells a deep and moving harmony,
Which resonates unheard within our ears, and stirs perceptions we shall never see.

As the soul shines forth in motions, and foremost in our oft upturning eyes;
All nature hints at the fathomless God, whose name is darkly writ across the skies.

Epigrams Inspired by the Inscriptions in the Library of Congress - IV (2009)

    16
“The chief glory of every people arises from its authors.”

What will remain when king and politician, celebrity and athlete pass away?
They live for a crowd that wakes and lives and dies by every day.
No – the great-hearted artist lives not for himself, nor for his hour;
His is an unborn audience, unseen, for whom he exerts his utmost power,
To bear with time the very fruit that time cannot devour.


    17
“Books will speak plain when counsellors blanche.”

History is a book which tells of deaf and blind and overreaching pride,
Which dared defy the moral law, subdued the world – and died.


    18
“The foundation of every state is the education of its youth.”

Only the most pernicious age could value children upon their cost;
But thus do we, and prove how far our purpose has been lost.

We poured a foundation poorly mixed, with malice and indifference raised;
As all collapses on our heads, if we be cursed – be not amazed.


    19
“Glory is acquired by virtue, but preserved by letters”

Treat your writers well: men’s memories are infinitely short,
But words endure; and so your glory pends on their indulgence and report.


    20
“Science is organized knowledge”

How infinite is the human mind, whence science has its birth,
Compassing all within its sphere, the systems of the heavens and the earth.

Epigrams Inspired by the Inscriptions in the Library of Congress - III (2009)

    11
“No great thinker ever lived and taught you all the wonder that his soul received.”

The circle is never by straightness proper judged, but rests transcendent magnitudes apart;
Just so we speak through these few feeble shades of what inflames the mind, the soul and heart.

    12
“Dwells within the soul of every artist more than all his effort can express.”

Though fed by love, a melancholy joy enshrouds the artist’s heart,
For though he glimpses visions deep and divine, he still may only see and sing in part.


    13
“Ignorance is the curse of God, knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven.”

Though ignorance may be of many things, the worst of all is that of love,
Which clips the wings of earnest thought from soaring in the realms above.


    14
“Wisdom is the principal thing, therefore get wisdom and with all thy getting get understanding.”

To gain it one must formerly be wise, since lack of it implies one is a fool;
But if a fool, how comes one to obtain it, when fools learn nothing, nor from rod nor school?
Since all are folly-filled in varying supplies, perhaps to simply love it, is already to be wise.


    15
“There is only one good, namely knowledge; there is only one evil, namely ignorance.”

Self-love in the highest captaincy begets a deadly state,
Such lovers cannot breed themselves but universal hate.

Statesman, you must persevere though death may be your prize,
For the few are slaves to tyranny, and the many never wise.

Epigrams Inspired by the Inscriptions in the Library of Congress - II (2009)

    6
“Books must follow sciences and not sciences books.”

When books were rated by science’s grade, discoveries were always made;
Whenever science fell to books, perchance the books were writ by crooks.


    7
“How charming is divine philosophy.”

The world of things must pass away, the air, the land, the sea;
Naught shall remain but those who wed divine philosophy.


    8
“Reading maketh a full man,
Conference a ready man,
And writing an exact man.”

Though listening is our wisdom’s start, and conference matures the mind;
Though reading overflows the heart, in writing at last our selves we find.


    9
“No painter ever set on canvas all the glorious vision he conceived.”

Though eyes see not the colorless source of colour’s illimitable light,
The mind discerns in myriad hues a single, iridescent white.


    10
“Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.”

Knowledge is a brazen maid, who calls to us with no demands;
But Wisdom is a lady coy, attracted not by unworked hands.

Epigrams Inspired by the Inscriptions in the Library of Congress - I (2009)

     1
“The poets who on earth have made us heirs of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays.”

The heirs of truth and pure delight shall strive by heavenly ways;
Less strenuous is the path they tread that’s graced by heavenly lays.

   
     2
“In books lies the soul of the whole past time.”

A book has some enchantment strange profused in every page,
Which puts it outside time itself to speak for every age.

   
     3
“Give instruction unto those who cannot procure it for themselves.”

What boon is wisdom to the world when secretly preserved?
Instruct the crowds who have it not, then wisdom is well served.

   
     4
“Words are also actions, and actions are a kind of words.”
A word is a kind of inner act that tells the inward man;
An action is the outer word the inner word began.


     5
“No musician but be sure he heard and strove to render feeble echoes of celestial streams.”

Music is within us all the misting of celestial streams,
In some, more lucky, it condensates like colours in our dreams.

We Two Are One (2006)

We two are one, yet being one are two,
Such is the nature of our unity:
As one is to itself am I to you,
And so, as one, imply equality.
Though we in different bodies have been caught
(And what seems two but inequality?),
Is two not prime?  Divisible by naught
But one or two - it's double unity.
This being so then makes one ponder three,
And how from two distinct arises one,
When connection forms with two one trinity;
This third, some say, permits their unison.
What the wise call Union when they speak hereof,
The wiser know by its proper title: Love.

Darkness (2010)

This darkness has a light that is its own,
Where all is null and meaning has no sense,
Where every word and thought is overthrown
By Something Hidden, ineffably immense.
Here one is two and three and also one,
For in this darkness of the silenced mind,
As reason cracks and logic is unspun,
We see at last and realize we are blind.
Now, once the slanting clamour is dispelled
That clogs the brain, we open different eyes
And with them Something Nameless is beheld
And felt obliquely in our enraptured sighs.
This darkness is the Light, the place we cease
To strive, the silent realm of Truth and Peace.

A Poem is not Prose (2009)

A poem is not prose,
This truth an idiot knows;
But our poets insist upon writings
Of nonsensical, prosaic blightings;
And the pile of waste-paper grows.

A poem is not prose,
But our poets don’t suppose
That all the poems they have writ
For years and years have reeked like shit;
And the pile of waste-paper grows.

A poem is not prose,
But a rose is a rose is a rose;
So the ass who would call himself poet
Is still an ass, and these asses do show it,
As the pile of waste-paper grows.

All I See is You (2010)

A crowd surrounds, but all I see is you:
Your lovely hair down-spilling, warm cascades
Of curls unto your waist in auburn shades
And soft reflections – beauty’s perfect hue.
Relaxed and smiling, I see you now anew,
So stunningly right the rest are merely grades
Of waning greys amid the colonnades
Of beauty; light and colour come from you.
My lovely, O my lovely, never change;
Be always as I see you standing now:
The vibrant joy, the happiness you wear
Bright-shining in your eyes, your skin and hair
Aglow.  No, no, my love, you shall not change;
Your spirit’s blush will ever grace your brow.