Roots



Listless and bored
let's drink to the horde
the faces
that have filled my life
and vanished,
while I have striven with grieves
and twists.
have briefed my soul
to reach
for simplicity and splendour,
to set high goals
and search
and leave them
high
for the sun and wind to bless.



And now
conjuring up the joy,
the peace
of some dear face
now absent, gone,
the fastness lent by love reflected,
a horizontal hold,
these things that tied me to the world,
roots, anchors,
these things that gave me substance,
afforded attachments
and meanings.



Oh I grieve
to leave
this marrying web,
stepping once more
through the open door,
not turning my head
as did Lot's wife to salt,
but standing beyond the doorways
which close forever on forever,
standing, as Jesus walked on water,
before "I don't know"
and "I might never see your face again
my mother father lover friends

Scattered spider thread



  
 
    
 
      
poems