The Poets
The world is many-troped and tangled;
its verses twist and turn with the wind.
Time unravels, a fraying of cord;
all signs decay, all is left traceless,
and only the poet threads the maze.
Every face hides the child of a Muse;
the Graces descend on every house.
However hard or dirt-stained the hand,
a bit of poet smiles in the eyes.
The fisher muses, the farmer sings,
the cowboy beside the fire reflects;
the Word breathed a Spirit upon all.
Thus boldly take your pen, write the words
that bring to life your thought; do not hide;
with practice human tongues speak the world.
The Shadows of the Mind
here I am
thinking of you
as I wonder how
the shadows fall
golden stars
shine above me
but I am walking
in thoughtful halls
what can I say?
how can I
undo the past?
so I am walking
in evening shadows
in the hallways
of my heart
here I am
thinking of you
my mind is mirrors
in endless rows
but this reflection
is not of glory
but of shade on shade
in nightlike forms
how can memory
catch the feeling?
can the evening
recall the dawn?
once the splendor
shone from heaven
now the darkness
covers us all
so I am walking
in my shadows
as I remember
the things of day
do I have them?
can I keep them?
without the light
they may fade away
The Soul Is Filled with Mercy Unbounded
The soul is filled with mercy unbounded,
glimmering like stars through worldly clouds;
from world to world the truth in song resounded
(the buds to blooms are blown where it hits the bough)
until it came to rest upon the graceful ear
of spirit burning brightly like a flame,
with a joy that wipes away all falling tears,
with love that lifts the soul and gives it name.
The truth in mind is nesting; can there cease
the thing that dwells in light forever, giving peace?
Taking Aim
Trust, take aim, and find glory.
Your guarantee is steadfast love.
Despite the illusions of shadow
down below, you are already above.
This world is but shadow; that, is real,
and at journey's end, shining bright,
the city eternal already stands
and you, already, share its light,
but nothing divides the truly good;
take aim, and turn never aside.
Let no storm-cloud hide your sun-mind,
your clear heart, for division has died.
