“It’s up to poets to revive the gods.”
—-Jim Harrison
There are no more gods
to conjure our hope
against this darkness,
no soft rituals
filled with smoke and fire
to sate writhing snakes.
We must shape the dark
to find ourselves
a space to live,
protected from rain
and heat, a space
to sleep and be reborn.
We alone must be
the wood and spark.
(August 29,2019)
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
No flames engulf–
I burn in slow embers
which pulse like blood;
if god exists, he’s here
now between these words
I live within.
(May 15, 2019)
in explanations explanations
that happens
to him to her to us
the story starts
well before this
then as now
more unfolds
within the seams
than seems
then as now
contexts inculcate
like wisps of mist
dampening fields
as god not us
speaks from silence
(February 11, 2019)
1
Between the wild flowers
which have yet to bloom,
the orange tabby stalks through
the light of a spring afternoon.
2
Too cynical to listen to the gods—
I am not a Moses tending sheep; yet
flowers still enflame the yellow
rose bush with celestial light.
(April 15, 2018)
love and fear bond us
the collaborative
notion we are dead
without the other
that god exists
within not without
as the beast devours
the ones on the edge
together we hold
what wisdom we have
in the stories told
as we eat our bread
the dead like god live
as wine in our blood
(February 8, 2018)
“Gods make their own importance.”
–Patrick Kavanagh
All the passions, indecisions,
And inarticulate fears
Which seize you randomly
Throughout the day,
All the sudden moments
Of chaos, and clarity,
Of lust, anger, and charity
Are more than you, yet only you.
Reason cannot hope to contain
The gods’ whispered instigations;
Wisdom’s inherent in your skin,
And transcends all interior
Motivations like accomplices
Waiting nearby for the fall.
(January 23, 2018)
