Delaware, Ohio
The sun is bright and clean, clear, splendid,
the honey-locust leaves breathe with lively zephyr;
travelers walk the ways, avoiding poison ivy,
ants explore with diligence the blades of grass.
Evening falls; the fireflies are delightfully sparking,
sunny heat is replaced by sweet breezes.
Light rain is busily coming and going.
Morning rises; a sleepy warmth descends.
The sun sings happily in the pure heavens;
the busy squirrels are leaping in the leafy branches.
The world is enfolded in each joyous, blazing flower
as wisdom's warblers sing the songs of peace.
A Song of Life
We walk before we crawl,
never knowing where we will end our road;
and each step is risk of fall
for we carry our hearts like a heavy load.
The sun beats harshly down
as it pours like lead toward the crushing ground;
and somewhere far from any town,
we might fall down dead, never to be found.
But I think stars will guide our way
to the morning-red through the evening gloam,
to where gentle waters flow;
at the break of day we will end our roam
by the garden-way where the roses grow.
This winding road is long,
so we do our best as we sing this song;
and each turn is a strange surprise
that opens out anew to unremembered skies.
The aging day brings sleep
as it blankets all with a endless rest;
but I will my paces keep
on a steady way, and get past this test.
And then stars will guide our way
to the morning-red through an evening gloam,
to a place I hope to know;
at the dawn of day we will end our roam
by the garden-way where the roses grow.
Not Smart
I'm just not as as smart as I think that I am,
rushing out of a pickle into a jam,
regretting my choices when I'm getting slammed.
I'll come up with a plan that'd probably do
if I left enough time for a follow-through;
I put medicine and toxin alike on the shelf,
might fix up a little scratch while I poison myself;
I'll burn every bridge just to make a small point,
then bend over backwards till I ruin my joints;
I fail through a self-defeating plan to succeed
that covers all bases save what I do need.
No, I'm not as smart as I think that I am;
it's out of one pickle, into a new jam,
beating down my own castle with a consequence-ram,
just not as smart as I think that I am.
