jethro
03-01-2008, 03:50 AM
Here is a man in the shadow of age,
Eyes slowly blind,laden with cries
In a mind full of words, undimmed by the kiss of time
He knows the divine music that often plays
In his poems, he knows the depth of winter
Whiteness in aged bones and the drifting snow
In his hair He knows too,a perfect built-in image
Inside that rarely shows, but, he can feel
The infinite finger-tip on tongue and lip.
He can hear it in the ocean's reach, in the wind's pulse,
Sees it in the sun,moon and stars,in the
Spilled rain, in the dark that falls the stone cities
Of the world, and in the light that brights each
New day. This 'image' that breathes the heart the pulse
The pen, that locks the words on the naked page,
This old white-haired imperfect man who knows well
Within his heart some awesome, mighty source
That seeks him out in the shallows of his sinful life
And walks in him the wakening breath gentle as a breaking morning
Something far to big an far to grand, immeasurable to
Fit in any poem, an 'image' that never can grow old
Flows on in us from age to age....ageless.
*
jethro
.
Eyes slowly blind,laden with cries
In a mind full of words, undimmed by the kiss of time
He knows the divine music that often plays
In his poems, he knows the depth of winter
Whiteness in aged bones and the drifting snow
In his hair He knows too,a perfect built-in image
Inside that rarely shows, but, he can feel
The infinite finger-tip on tongue and lip.
He can hear it in the ocean's reach, in the wind's pulse,
Sees it in the sun,moon and stars,in the
Spilled rain, in the dark that falls the stone cities
Of the world, and in the light that brights each
New day. This 'image' that breathes the heart the pulse
The pen, that locks the words on the naked page,
This old white-haired imperfect man who knows well
Within his heart some awesome, mighty source
That seeks him out in the shallows of his sinful life
And walks in him the wakening breath gentle as a breaking morning
Something far to big an far to grand, immeasurable to
Fit in any poem, an 'image' that never can grow old
Flows on in us from age to age....ageless.
*
jethro
.