Beauty

Two Mourning Doves Friendship on the promenade? I know to some it may sound odd but there above, two mourning doves in the weeping willow tree! They share their grief and find relief in the bonds that set them free. For tho' he cries each time she flies the tears...

(The BBC story here for reference) If I were burdened with a lover who Looked crooked like this woman (woman?), I Would go as twisted as Picasso.  Blue Lips, though, are what I’d paint to help me shy Away from her (or him?—can’t really tell), And if the her/him face looked...

  Could the dandelion be excused for not being a rose, If its effort to grow was much greater; If it labored and toiled Through unfavorable soil, And bloomed just a little bit later? Would its gaunt be forgiven and size overlooked If the looker could see what's within? Sure,...

  Golden Opposite of Grave Beauty The Buddhist, Yuezun, saw light like gold Above the blistering sands.  The desert blight Of Taklamakan gained no stranglehold On shimmering beauty.  There above cliff height A thousand golden Buddhas sang and danced With heavenly maids, celestial in strength And rhythm.  Yuezun had only chanced Upon this...

Degrees of Light She squinted, watching circling gulls Fly overhead; small rhythmic waves Slapped steadily upon ship hulls. Brown crabs dashed out from wet sand caves Evading hungry birds; dried fins Of fish lay underneath palm trees. Sleek dolphins laughed with long fixed grins, Warm west wind stirred, strong humid...

  Steel Masks King Henri II of France was accidentally killed in 1559 during a festive tournament when he was lanced in the eye by Gabriel Montgomery, seigneur de Lorges, a member of his Garde Escossaise. A young Italian nobleman named Luigi Corbinelli witnessed the event, and was so profoundly...

In that part of the day that briefly follows night, before the turning finds the steady lying line from where the biggest star will mount and will get bright, I turn me inside out and start to lift my spine. In that part where the day does start, there are...

Monsoon Dance In Quintets Go back, O' spry peacock, go back into thy dense coppice! The sylvan clock did spell a sly lie! Monsoon is far… ah still a tear in summer's eye! With stars, the sky is clear! Restless our yeomen are staring at sky. The deer and bunnies...

Yes, I admit I seldom write, Or even think of you, But not, as you suppose, Because there's someone new, But rather that I do not choose To let you slip away, Or let the passage of a year Seem more than half a day. Because I will not think...

Blessing in Disguise They catch each little misstep and with kindly, caring grace— they point out the right direction by gently getting in your face. And just in case, you've overlooked that vexsome fatal flaw, they take the time—to point it out: deftly hid, midst blah-blah-blah. They're sweet and giving—to...

For Our Children “The sum is greater than its parts,” or so the saying goes. And now the two of us can see the proof as each one grows, Distinct but similar in code, the perfect mix and match Of you and me but with a little extra in each...

To a Red-Winged Black Bird on the Advent of Spring For some a robin heralds in the Spring. Others: a crocus or a daffodil. My old man claims it’s when nightchirpers sing. The farmer cites the rain, the barnyard rill. I sense it when the maple-lines come down; when pruning-ladders...

Compassion, with your sun that shines unseen, You lead the river of man’s thoughts to flow Where Saving Grace’s golden breezes blow, To universal mercy’s sea pristine. With selflessness imbued, one’s self will soar To reach its zenith, freed of every urge, To feel the joy of spreading joy emerge,...

  Riddling Away What slips and squanders, and has no matter? Leaves one to ponder, and rarely flatters? Is never enough to go all around, and often too rough when finally found? And where will it go long after I’m dust? Another will know and hopefully trust. Announce its calling...

. . Hope What task be done, you thought was not?What asked and sought, forgot, was wrought?What strain was set against a blow?As gain unfettered, bettered, lo, The frost was last before the sun;What once was lost recast as won. . . The Moment “And I knew just as surely,...

Verification What further evidence will now be needed to assure Us that behind the strictly physical there’s something more, And that the natural world is clearly ordered from above, Than seeing how the normal parent cannot help but love A child?  Though some may raise the specter of “the selfish gene,”...

. Visiting the Ruins of Tintagel Castle I wander through a forest deep __in Cornish countryside And think I see some elves asleep __And giants run to hide. The branches gnarled like magic wands, __Green velvet moss on trees, The ivy cloaks around the ponds, __Soft rocks bejewel the streams. I...

Spring was near now Spring’s here, come to waken all the flowers and to welcome April showers. Spring was near now Spring’s here. The grass is green as green can be and the blossoms are blooming in the apple tree. Spring was near, now Spring’s here. A little bird has...

Blue Star Mama painted calm and clouded landscapes Before she wed, blue-green and grassy shapes, But these went by the board just after she Jumped off into the matrimonial sea. Later, Bach rocked the house and Chopin too, For as we grew up, that was what she’d do, Bringing us...

I Watch the Sun I watch the sun, its trek, across the sky. The shadow too to see how it reacts. When light steps forth, the shadow it gets shy. Then shadow finds its strength when light contracts. A quiet little fight the two ensue. He reaches out his arm...

  Boston Public Garden On Boston Public Garden's willowed shorebank, two little girls are feeding ducks: they prance from beak to beak, arms arcing past their foreheads to farther thrust their crusts. They feel, perchance, how full the cupboards of their lives are stocked: so full they're called to fling...

White Wolf, Black Wolf: A Cherokee Story A trijan refrain Inside you lives a wolf of white— of patience, peace and love. He is forgiveness, hope and light; a blessing from above. This wolf of white the world will see through all the good he brings to thee. _____This wolf...

  One Near-Death Experience at the Royal Bournemouth Hospital To be dazed out, phased out, near to dying In a hospital bed Somewhere in a street near you, Pain excessive, crying, Eyes blank at blank ceiling staring ahead And nothing, nothing to do. Only night comes on, but what matter?...

After E. T. A. Hoffman "Only connect..." E. M. Forster, Howard's End By Ewald E. Eisbruc The inner structure of the movements, working joint by joint, the way they all are linked together, toward a single point, th' interrelation of main themes, producing unity, beteem each listener to reach a new...

  Oak tree like a gnarled arthritic hand jutting into the sky black and bent knobby knuckles, twisted swirls and burls appearing ancient, energy spent Dry leaves are sparse, barely hanging on and are missing in many places Branches and twigs like a skeleton which ghostly tule fog soon erases...

The Theater of the Bush To westward the sun seeks a comfort nocturnal, Her warmth slipping under the covers ahead; And daylight soon passes the threshold eternal, Turns on the night-light and settles in bed. Awakens from slumber those creatures encumbered By prisons of sunlight and tethers of day. Possums...

. . Approaching Spring Above the mountain, under the sky, Canadian Geese, you hear their cry, Over the mountain, hear them sing, Man and Wife, approaching Spring. . . Charge to Orion Gird thy blade and tighten belt Spurred unswayed by heights not felt Betelgeuse and Rigel fire Nimble Lepus;...

  Are the dead at peace in the ground? wrapped in loam, slow dissolving to earth. Is the mother at peace in travail, wracked apart that a child might be born? Does a man find peace as he toils for a cause, half around the world's girth? Were the martrys...

  Spring is Coming From naked trees, droplets of dew, Drips like tears onto my upturned face. Everything is bleak, nothing new. No creation feels like outer space. Hear ye, hear ye, everyone come. What, a spot of bright green on that tree? Although it’s as small as a crumb,...

A Pantoum The wind, it sings through trees of pine The breeze, it sweeps my senses clear This day shines bright, this day shines fine These dunes are bringing heaven near. The breeze, it sweeps my senses clear Awakened eyes view vibrant hues These dunes are bringing heaven near The...

The Rocky Mountain Pines Written in Rhymed couplets of Anapestic Tetrameter. In the mountains or plains, with the pine in the air, I’ll awake to the sun with a chill to compare. When I hike up a hill, with a heart full of gloom, And the trail is lined by...

Dancer the arch of her collarbone a bridge, her legs a throne, the clean and simple lines of her body free of confines. she dances, arms akimbo, hair flowing, and I know that she belongs to the wind, to breathe the free air, skin pale and wide like the sky,...

  Celestial Teevee Something that’s always puzzled me: Does the Creator watch us on celestial teevee the way we watch Modern Family? If so, can He (She? It?) switch channels? (To other worlds, galactic variety shows?) When does He get up for beer and pretzels, since there are (I assume)...

  Songbirds Sing (Triolet Sonnet) As songbirds sing with joy of spring, unfolding blossoms show their hues. From my front porch the wind chimes ring as songbirds sing with joy of spring. Fresh colors cast on ev’rything— in shades of yellows, reds, and blues. As songbirds sing with joy of...

  The World Is Still Too Much Too much, and much too much, it still goes on: The men and women who covet wealth and bling, And acquisition of each material thing, Yet search for some elusive paradigm Of Self as one with Nature. Rising seas And tempest winds instill...

All photos by Mark Wyatt / All poetry by Alec Ream Chant of the Wooded Hall Chlorophyll concordant eaves Soaring ceiling, verdant leaves Torah spell my secret sees Worded oracle of trees Beneath a thing be found intent Unsheathing singing, sound and scent Growing shoots a task of me Sowing...

Sonnet for an Arabian Autumn After William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 73 This time of year you will in me perceive When all things green take on their second growth, The sun at last agrees to a reprieve, And birds return to keep their migrant’s oath. You’ll see a certain lightness in...

  This time of year makes it hard to believe in randomness. Maples flame up, then out, visible symmetry undressed as roots-in-air mirrors.  That blood moon too; imagine it even older, chokecherry-small, earth an egg, the sun a perfect boulder. What precision engineering to have them appear in eclipse as...

Often I ponder things unseen Eons of light and mysterious beings The breathtaking fallout as stars collide A silent womb where souls reside Hidden space where last breaths are kept Moss ridden stone where Jesus wept Tribal paintings of Mermaids on caves Star gates unsealed and paths unpaved Particles of...

Darkness No longer did they see the need For things called books they used to read. Music—no longer symphonies, But simple tunes composed with ease. And what of Beauty?  What of Grace? They disappeared without a trace. Because of that, without a doubt, The light of Wisdom did go out....