In Mice
The treatment works;
it works in mice
and I suppose
that that is nice.
The little mice,
an ingrate lot,
will never give it
any thought.
But we must wait
ere we begin
to start the tests
for treating men
and may it work!
Yet it might not,
and fail to be
the hope we sought.
Crow Terrace Poetry Trial
My poems are in disarray,
like ashes from fire,
sifted by prosaic minds
stumbling over words.
And what do they find?
What can find anything
who cannot travel the way?
I, a painter with thought
am now judged by the blind
for denouncing the Imperial car.
Can one disrespect the artisan
by noting defects in the tool?
That is support, not blame.
Cicadas buzz angrily at the gate;
how strange that they herald winter.
Maria Domina
Lady Mary, bright as stars,
the world around like fury's storm
beats against my heart and head.
Queen of heaven, give me heed
and pray for me and all of mine
that we be safe in heart and mind.
O Lady great, high wisdom's Seat,
most holy Ark among the saints,
I beg you pray that all be well,
that we be ardent in our will,
and that, O Mother of many ends,
our path be clear to sunrise-east.
A Chalice Raised High
a chalice raised high
like the early plum blossoms --
ah! lucid stillness
