Tree and Sunset

photograph courtesy of Sonja Bingen

"A tree gives glory to God first of all by being a tree. For in being what God means it to be, it is imitating an idea which is in God and which is not distinct from the essence of God, and therefore a tree imitates God by being a tree."  Thomas Merton

Oh, learn from the trees,

that through cold days' rush

endure, from hope to hope,

and embrace

evening's blush.

See how the faithful jay 

flits from branch to 

barren branch, 

and sings of 

summer's lost day.

For all trees believe 

in summer's heat, 

though icy winds may strip 

their tender leaves.

They know that change 

is always the  same, 

until

some long winter hence

they'll fall, by vicious storm slain,

and grateful life will

quietly end.

Originally published on December 10, 2011

Foggy Road

Foggy Road, painting by Tim Mullaney

“...unity in love is one of the most characteristic works of the inner self, so that paradoxically the inner “I” is not only isolated but at the same time united with others on a higher plane, which is in fact the plane of spiritual solitude.”  Thomas Merton, The Inner Experience: Notes on Contemplation

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in fog we walk

down the glistening road

our steps ring

like ice shattering

crystal souls, shards

sharp and eager

at last,

to rise.

You look

into my eyes

and see

nothing;

I look

into your eyes

and see

everything,

as together

we walk

down the shimmering

road.

Night Scene

Black windows frame dark
folded drapes; indifferent
stars peer through high arch.

Wine glass gleams. Fragrant
constellations, red dregs, swill
over empty stem.

Night trains blare, despairing
gates clang, steel wheels crease dark rails.
Night birds stir, dreaming.

Flawed Haiku

clouds gather where none

had been, promising rain, they

scatter in vain

Lux in Tenebris Lucet

“Lux in tenebris lucet et tenebrae eam non comprehenderunt. (The Light shines in darkness and the darkness has not understood it.)” Thomas Merton

she lies, broken,
by steel needles
pierced.
dried blood caked
under translucent tape,
her chest slightly rising
and falling

almost motionless

but for her searching eyes
seeking light
in the darkness.

The Barren Time

The barren time approaches.

Shadows skulk through empty streets

vacant lines fill with lies.

Fear approaches,

drains pale the moon.

Only a single bulb

remains.

Do you see

them coming?

Are you afraid?

Ordinary Life

My home’s filled
with living sounds.

Pans clanging
in the kitchen,

My son’s speaking
through thin chips
with distant friends

while pressed against my arm,
soft and warm,
the cat purrs with contentment.

She’s following
my dancing fingers

as I tap black patterns
on this glowing screen,
(to her, wise critic,
signifying nothing!)

I swim in this pond
like golden koi,
and inhale the fragrant
atmosphere
of my ordinary life.

Like Rising Flame

Like rising flame
my love ignites
the dawn
as molten sky
pours sacred gold
to fill your
folded valley
and compel your love
to conspire
with my soul’s
hot desire.

Driving Home

I glide,
past moon-drenched vines,
my feeble light casting
to where all certainty ends.
But beneath these wheels
the dark road sings
hymns of breathless
anticipation.
I speed
to that distant place
where I know
you are waiting.

Hear my love's breath

I hear my love's breath! 

Oh, where should I stay? 

Whispering fear 

to the stale, 

withered day?

I feel her breath

on my bleak, barren soul. 

She warms my heart, 

brings me out of the cold.

Morning Bright

Morning bright, night chill gone,
the scented wind stroking
high, compliant branches,

and I watch for you
in our summer garden;
lush in leaf and yellow rose
and silky grass
in vernal sunshine,

and It's you I wait for in the ivy shade
watching our lazy cat
stretch her dappled fur
on the bright, sun soaked
concrete step.

Like the tender vine
in the warming soil
I am content
to wait
for you.

Love and Living

“Life consists in learning to live on one's own, spontaneous, freewheeling: to do this one must recognize what is one's own - be familiar and at home with oneself.....The world is made up of people who are fully alive in it: that is, of the people who can be themselves in it and can enter into a living and fruitful relationship with each other in it.” Thomas Merton

What is mine,
aging skin
wraps my
inner world

where hidden rivers
course through veins,
rapids throb
with the
urgent pulse of
me.

Me,
my brain
snaps commands
at the speed of light,
compels my hands
to type living
words,

eyes send
sight
to prove the truth
of my
being

here as I wait
and watch
for you to finish
your warm
bath.

Laughing,
I see
that I live
in you
and you in
me.

Our Love

Lightning 

flashing in your eyes,

wind in your hair, gleaming

moon, passion

streaming.

It remains

deep in my heart;

unquenched desire,

our love's constant fire.

Fiesta

The old town square swings 
in the gentle desert breeze
as the band plays hot salsa and Grateful Dead, 
and couples dance and children laugh
in the dying day's lingering heat. 

We don't dance, 
although our feet tap,
our shoulders shrug 
to these fiesta rhythms,

We claim our seats 
under the ancient elm
in the cathedral's green yard, 
and watch as St. Francis, 
with sweeping gesture, 
blesses with eternal joy 
this lusty life.

In the deepening shade 
of trees and adobe wall,
we stand 
as the day declines, 
and the fiery sun descends 
beyond painted desert hills, 
the glorious moon rising, 
over Santa Fe

August

"This light shines in darkness, but unless God Himself draws us out of the darkness, we are not enlightened by Him, even though He be present."  Thomas Merton


soft summer wind
murmering trees
distant train
calling me.

sun-washed patio,
the house gleams
in the sweet after-
glow of noon.

the chairs are
waiting.

limbs lean to the
ground,
heavy with apples
waiting,
round,
sweet velvet light,

all waiting.

sometimes in the night

"Love is the revelation of our deepest personal meaning, value and identity. But this revelation remains impossible as long as we are the prisoners of our own egoism. I cannot find myself in myself, but only in another."  Thomas Merton. Love and Living.

sometimes

in the night

I fight the 

deepening shadows

of sleep disturbed 

by fearful stirrings,

silent watchers

standing, waiting

as I fall  

into

nothing...

but when I awake

and turn to you

I feel your breath

and finding myself anew

again 

I begin

to live.

Proposal

In the glow of the autumn fire

your eyes warm me.

With bouquet

of winter rose you sweeten

our room; your voice lifts

away night's misty gloom.

So why ever

should we die?

My heart beats

in steady time with yours,

and my mind seeks words

to shine for you

like diamonds.

Oh, my love, let's live here

forever!

Aubade Wake Up and See

Wake

up

and see

how the sun

lights the top-most leaves

sets astir the delta breeze, shrugs

off night and drives darkness down into the flashing sea!

Fill Your Breath

fill your breath

with the warm delta breeze,

whispering leaves, all power

contained in a bit of green

and a murmur of rain.

in the hot summer sun

our fingers caress. I see

in your eyes what

I’ll never forget.

Reverie

Your breath

your voice

summer soft

lost in sleep

I dream

your whisper

rushing across

my bare

neck

your breath

lands unknown

soft days, warm nights, life
flows into life, seasons melt
to hazy light; hold tight

my love, and don’t let
go! for together we’ll jour-
ney to lands unknown.

In the Human Community

in the human community
laughter fills the air,
deep voiced fathers, uncles,
small children laughing, playing tag,
playing hide
and seek
as birdsong pierces
the opaque sky
fills with ancient peace
the resurrection-trees of resurgent spring
in the human community.

Aubade: Your Face

Starry lace wraps

your sleeping face.

With passion
I watch over you

like the moon

drifting

to secret

rendezvous,

to the importunate sun,

who, with ardent speed,

rises in-

to the fiery

east!

Aubade: Autumn

Day and night

our hearts beat,

arteries, veins pulse

breath swells ardent lungs

and we live!  

Oh, hear how the morning dove moans

in the pale early light;

Wander with me.

With open arms

embrace the radiant eye.

Our love grows

as slowly

we rise.  

The English Teacher

When I told them how Jim Crow
made prisons of
bathrooms, restaurants,
candy stores, schools

and how the school bus forced
colored kids into a ditch,
(too black to ride)
and justice finally failed
even Sunday school girls,

they looked askance,
narrowing their eyes
and asked how people
could be so unfair,

so I showed them.

Six million gone
with the careless wave
of the Kommandant’s baton,
and Anne, discovered and reduced
to words on a page.

Their eyes grew suddenly old and grave.

Now
asking them to write April poems,
I say,
look at the cold spring day…
wind blowing
through restless trees,
rain filling the land to
make it green,

but instead they sing dirges,
of children who murder,
and children who die.

So why should I be surprised ?
They did not make this world
and I cannot lie.

Author notes

(after reading Billy Collins’s poem, “The History Teacher”)

Sonata

"Music is pleasing not only because of the sound but because of the silence that is in it: without the alteration of sound and silence there would be no rhythm."

Thomas Merton, No Man is an Island

The grave is empty.

Darkness, half lit by the blurred moon,

Chilled by the sea, the fog waiting,

The enthralled stars, nearly lost,

Searching for another earth,

The dark soil waiting for the seed.

Chaos-night.

The memory of a fireplace,

Warmth with music

Undulating arias

Like small birds falling into darkness.

Cold rain

Driving against my window.

Muffled music and dreams of water,

And another grave.

Rocky Shore

Photograph: "Rocky Shore" by Sonja Bingan

The new man lives in a world that is always being created and renewed.  

He lives in this realm of renewal and creation.  He lives in life.   

Thomas Merton

ancient lake

spirit of

glacier,

waves recede

and the bones of fish

swim

to summer 

shallows.

day follows day;

sharp edges

blunt

to anger,

to blue

sky

until arise

souls, smooth

and wise.

risk

"Sooner or later . . . we have to risk everything in order to gain everything. We have to gamble on the invisible and risk all that we can see and taste and feel.” Thomas Merton

Soft autumn breezes,

hills: brown, blue, violet - black

moving to nothing.

risk it all, keep no-

thing in your hand; grasp thin air

and take everything.

taste your fears, salt-tears

sting your eyes; glare like the sun-

set on the last day.

questions

Destruction in Homs, Syria 2012

“While I am asking questions which You do not answer, You ask me a question which is so simple that I cannot answer. I do not even understand the question.”  Thomas Merton
 
“In distress you called and I rescued you; I answered you in secret with thunder.” Psalm 81: 8

City in rubble,

walls exposed,

shattered windows,

shards

rudely ripping

`children

waking

the dead

searching

for any good reason

to live.

They ask

questions

which you do not

answer.

I want to understand

your master-plan

but you speak

in secret

in whispers of

thunder.

Victims of Bashar al Assad in Homs, 2012

Spider Web

The spider web drifts,

abandoned, useless,

high in the window 

bright in the setting sun,

close to a world in motion.

Not immersed in the savage flow,

it is protected from wild birds 

that caw in the swaying tree

peering down

at creatures bound to solid, 

unmoving ground.

Their motion 

is sacred motion,

but the web just aimlessly stirs

in an inner breeze 

always on the edge 

of the living sea

held fast by stasis 

of gravity.