Those trees from whichgreat violins were fashionedmade sounds like sighing.Bold limbscreaked and groaned,urged by wind that spentmidnightbeing musical. This is not quite the same musica cricket makes when itrubs its legs together at evening,arousing,but you get the idea. Perhaps Antonio Stradivariheard a branch moan,leaped from his bed, thought,“That is my elusive tone!”and ran to hisContinue reading “The Trees From Which”
Tag Archives: simplicity
Captured In Creation
Spring returnedto Thirsty Harbour onceagain this year,advanced,as it has ever been,by some fantastic gear,whose driving force,eternal,spins the whole around. Both whereabouts of motor-driveand obvious reason why,elude our observation.Iam the curious passenger,and with all, toward beginning bound.
The Mountain Poem
The Mountain Poem(march 17, 2023) Today,when I started,I meant to walkthrough the new mountains,where sharp edgesthrust upward.Always embarrassed at their nakedness,the peaks have now slung hasty,below the shoulder,a soft garment of greenwhich teases another season to life. It has been winterand hibernationfor the longest time,with everything visible disguisedby a transitory puritythat now blackens and shrinksunderContinue reading “The Mountain Poem”
The Guest May Never Know
Folks say that it was God,Himself, who bent the sunalong it’s track,sent the other starsand planetsfrom or to then back. A store-front preacher,whom I know,reads from a bookthat’s very old,breathes a quiet soliloquy. The ancient talesdo comfort him andI don’t flat-outdisagree, ‘causethings more strange thansomeone’s super powers,science says, must be. If Quarks with charmdon’t ringContinue reading “The Guest May Never Know”
The Clock Alone Has Time
Time,the shining mother ship,transports our trusting souls,aloft, a-sail,across the dome of space. Wind and circumstance,by strong or gentle motion,bend what they are passing,so can time be proven.(A thing was here that nowis there. I am baldwho once had hair.) Contrariwise,I true believe,we never leave the moment.There is no was andwill no futurecertain be,though ebb andflood,Continue reading “The Clock Alone Has Time”
The Proof
Suppose it true,our solitary home a spinning rock,flung across entiretyat fantastic speed. I can almost feel thewind of it,loose hair much likea comet-tail of frozen bitsas timeand every precious minute lived,flows out behind. This is a dazzling idea,whereGod and love andpower and fortune,win and lose andmighty oceans,taxes and war andconstitutionsmeannothing.The proof of paradiseis imagination.
The Invention of Plastic/Sleeping In
I’ll betcave men caught forty more winksat the end of a night.Og may have said,as, at this moment, I yet might,“Hell with it, today!”since the breakfast firewas a bitch tolight. In cave days,folks had basic hurdlesand nothing more to dothan eat or make loveand sleep until the sleepingwas through.In this day,with complex social machinery,we makeContinue reading “The Invention of Plastic/Sleeping In”
Gaslight Gratitude
I have: Gentle birds and twitching squirrels, spare trees, winter chill, clouds, fresh air, moon over the hill.I desire: Sun to shine and a day or two extra time.
Moon Is innocent
What shines as moon isdead rock,in science theory coalescedof material cast from earthby the violence of agespast. Its surface cold,at core, like earth,the moon boils hot.That is, perhaps,why Shaman, priest and Gypsy claimthe moon has soul.It does not. The moon’s an empty mirror,round, reflective…staunch opponent to theover-heated sun’shurled invective.Between these twoare push, pull and season,jealousy,Continue reading “Moon Is innocent”
Revelation
Tired summer stripped off,quitting the trees earlier each dayuntil a disguise of green droppedin bold patterned,bright coloured skirts downaround bony knees. The hidden places are shown. It now appears to the naked eyethat beast and bird, by nature knowing how,built nests high,collecting bunches of warm things,dry twigs, torn fur, used feathers and,stolen from the nearbyContinue reading “Revelation”
Robert On The Air 