Sometimes, still,I sing to hear the soundand wonder ifour dusty-brownbirds do this, too.Though worksong’s ofutmost import every day,I’m sure birds alsoplay. I’m certain theymight call each othersilly names at times,sole to hear anecho backas summer’s sunclimbs. Further, yet, my theory is:life keeps an hour divineto step asideand game at love. The proof of this glowshighContinue reading “Birds and Stars”
Tag Archives: Poetry
Conversations About God
Earlier,the birds had conversationson the rooftop edge adjacentto our window casement.My simple heart imagined them Christians,setting about their Sunday reflectionsnotcomplex nature’s gentle wings,whom,feathered in a colour of complacence,dusty brown,communicate in private terms. …then oneand twoand three flew down,resumed their search for worms. A day’s carefree dreams fly away,as my talking Christian birds did do,when splashedContinue reading “Conversations About God”
Act Three
You are still,almost part of the chair,before a drawn curtainand wondering, “Is there not an act three?”while those around are standing,offering applause,putting on coats,gathering purses,hats,scarves,excitedly chattering aboutwhat a great show it was. Over time, the theatre clearsof friends and neighbours,dear ones,lovers, dreams,but you remain,for what must be an eternity,pondering. Have you notunderstood the joke?or learnedContinue reading “Act Three”
Me, Pussycat, God
If I were the Pussycatand Hewereme, I wonder exactlyhow thatwouldbe. I might sit,contented,my own simple businessto mind and,suddenly,find my whole self lifted in air,to be cheek by jowland ear pressed to ear. I’d struggle,push, lean,and rathernot be there but I’d have nothing to fear. All powerful,the Pussycat’dhave no reason to be mean, I’d feel lovedandContinue reading “Me, Pussycat, God”
Where Did It Come From,Why Is It Here,Where Will It Go
The great river is alluring chance,it’s old, graveled edgean over-one-shoulderseductive glance.I am teased to wanting for sunny days and bright sandthat some folk say, “lies further south, around a bend, where each may go one day.” Hushed rushing quickens the hour. I fear inertia’s awful powerto draw this weak swimmer, unready,from the sheltering, familiar eddys. Through western history,the same books boreContinue reading “Where Did It Come From,Why Is It Here,Where Will It Go”
An Emperor’s New Clothes
Passion glows,witnessed through back-lit windows.It’s nothing more again than darknessand certain death called progress.Where is what was promised thee? This looking-glass, called ‘Galaxy’,has empty pixels, tamed,unlike the place, for which it’s named,that’s balanced, occupied by everything,mass and time and nothing. Stripped to bare,a changeling preens and we are unaware.At first sight bright, much ballyhooedby shoppingContinue reading “An Emperor’s New Clothes”
Robert On The Air 