Monday, November 5, 2012

Two Poem Morning

Creation had been given to man as a clean window through which the light of God could shine into men’s souls. Thomas Merton

Holy Spirit

I lift heavy legs and groping for glasses,
stumble through my dark house
to see if night will return the sky.

Aching for the new day
I sip strong coffee
and write.

Listen! Birdsong rings
from dark trees.

Wise winter birds
know that the world
and ends
with song.

With the rush of wings
they teach me,
how to capture the infant sun!

They show me
how, with trill and vibrato,
to end the dreary night.

They use breath and light
to rise to heaven,
and renew with love
the face
of the earth.

Aubade: Morning Rain

Living trees, grass rising
from dark cool soil

Roses, like blood from a wound
rise above a common weed.

Its fugitive life persists
evading my brutal hands.

November rains
provoke darker green

Dim clouds pour
solemn waterfalls

Holy tears renew
the life of our dark world.

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