Wednesday, June 10, 2009

 

GUIDANCE

 

She said he should strum

a mandolin in a small room

so the room will sing.

She said he should turn the pages of a book

like he was lifting veils

in front of lovely faces.

She said he should kneel

at the feet of every feeling

and climb the trails of kindness.   

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

WHERE IT ALWAYS HAS BEEN

 

For her, friendship has persisted.

In the praise she feels from the sunrise,

in the serenades she hears

as she cruises on her bicycle

across the brother and sister streets,

in the clusters of grapes she savors

as often as possible – in all this

there is the sound of friendship

passing through her life like quiet cars.

She listens to the lyrics

of flowing water over dishes in the sink,

and it says that friendship

will find us when we’re lost.

Her life wears flowered skirts

because friendship insists

on staying where it is,

where it always has been.

FEELING WEALTHY

 

He collects baseball cards

like they’re shining silver dollars.

He carries them carefully

in his front pockets.

He feels wealthy with his cards –

his Musial, his mint-condition Mays,

his Slaughter, a card

kids would kill to have.

He likes to sit

beneath the successful sweet-gum tree

and talk to his cards:

Say hey, Willie.

Pound one over the pavilion, Stan.

Enos, show me how to hustle home

from first on a single.

 

These days

he strides down Summit Street

in style.

 

Monday, June 8, 2009

SOMETHING SPECIAL

 

The grass is dressed 

in its finest green,

the trees have their blossoms on,

and the sky is showing

some matchless clouds.

Even houses are dressed

to stand in the sunlight.

His arms, folded like friends,

are wearing sunlight

like a luxurious shirt. 

 

CONNECTIONS

 

A wild wind is a friend for him,

and the steam of a soggy day

can start his heart sending signals.

He prays to the modest sunshine,

to the sighing of shoes

on the supermarket floor,

to the tales the world tells him.

The events of an unfolding hour

are hands he loves to hold.

 

CONTENTMENT

 

He’s got what he needs –

veins full of force inside,

and a world of wonders outside.

He gets gifts everyday:

a quiet call from a bird,

the perfect flute of someone’s voice,

so many free breaths of air.

He’s rich with rewards.

Just now a bee in a bright shirt

blew by him,

and a breeze came across his arms. 

Friday, June 5, 2009

 

THE DAY HE WAS BORN IN THE PARK

 

There was a squirrel

sitting in his best posture.

There were praises being sung

by a plane passing overhead.

A small girl’s laughs

lit up the lives of those

who heard her, and happiness

strolled around in its invisible way.

It was his first moment

as a miracle. It was

the rosy face of the world

staring at him suddenly.

It was the things of this life

cheering for themselves. 

 

 

THE EFFECT OF TRUTH

 

The effect of truth

is quietness and assurance forever.

You can see it spreading its goodness

across the river, and down

on the face of the sea.

You can hear its quietness

taking care of the world,

its promise speaking softly.

See it on the undisturbed hills,

or see it sitting next to you

at work, or shimmering

in your soup at noon. 

THE HEAD OF A TEENAGER

 

Inside it there are thoughts

like cars and trucks in traffic –

horns honking, fenders crashing,

lights blazing in the center

of a vast darkness. Sometimes,

especially during sleep,

it snows peacefulness and pleasure inside,

and then the traffic stops

and satisfaction strolls the sidewalks.

But most often there is the furor

of youthful thoughts rushing in circles,

slamming on brakes, or speeding

down highways in the head

toward disaster or paradise.

If you stand next to a teenager,

you might hear clashing, distant noises,

you might take a step back

for safety’s sake.

 

Thursday, June 4, 2009

 

AS GOOD AS IT CAN BE

 

His pencils are resting

where they should be.

The green lamp’s light

is as good as it can be,

and the stain of coffee on the paper

is a superb stain.

His hands, flawlessly folded

in his lap, are wrinkled

in a wonderful way.

Alone in his perfect apartment,

he is just right,

a senior citizen with textbook baldness

and the great gift

of growing old.  

 

THANKS AND PRAISE IN EVERY PLACE

 

One day his future is singing a song

beside a frozen river

beneath the sweater of the stars,

and the next day

he hears lords in castles

calling his name. On Thursday

there might be mystic moonlight

in his future, and on Sunday

there could be kingdoms

he can call his own.

His dreams for himself

are in the midst of the city of Happiness.

He glimpses guarantees in his dreams,

the fullness of sunshine,

and thanks and praise in every place. 

SURF UNDER THE STARS

 

She is a good person.

The sun casts happiness

across miles of fields and villages,

a lamp lights up

a small, sorrowful life

simply by switching on,

and goodness is always stroking her,

like the air does,

like the breeze of a fan does,

like millions of mild feelings do.

She likes to lie still

and listen to the music inside her.

The flash of her goodness

can always be seen,

like surf under the stars.

 

 

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

 

A FLOOD

 

 

One day he was driving to school

when he suddenly started laughing.

He couldn’t have told you

why he was laughing.

The daylight along the fields

wasn’t especially amusing,

nor was the wind

among the limbs of trees.

True, he had been talking to himself –

small sentences

that might become parts of poems –

but the sentences

weren’t even worth smiling about.

Still, there he was,

moving along Main Street

in a car filling up with laughter.

Oddly, it filled so full

that the laughter finally

flowed out the window

and followed a wind over a field

far from his school.  

 

THE MOVEMENT OF WINDOWS

 

His windows slide up and down

with ease. It gives him satisfaction

to feel the frames

flowing up and down on the tracks.

He raises and lowers them

dozens of times each day,

simply for the pleasure of it.

He doesn’t have to strain hard.

The windows seem to wish to help.

They sigh when he starts to raise them.

They sing in their tracks.

It’s festive when these windows

on Spring Street rise and fall.

Birds passing by pause.

A man with a weight of sorrow

sets it down

to admire the movement of windows. 

 

 

 

BROTHER AND SISTERS

 

There are trillions of members –

stones and bowls and papers on desks.

It’s a secret society

that all things belong to.

The earth sees sister planets

and brother stars spinning together.

All the pencils in drawers

praise the trees they came from,

and all the erasers are satisfied

to slide across pencil marks.

He prays at the shrine of life:

show me my sisters

in the clothes in my closet,

my brothers in bagels and jam. 

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

IN FIVE MINUTES

 

You could make five people happy,

or bring a little poem to life,

or love could carry you off,

or chaos could fall away

and wisdom would be left,

or your eyes could suddenly see,

in just five minutes. 

 

STANDING BY

 

He lives in useful surroundings.

The stars carry their convenient lights

across the sky each night,

and a silver day usually dawns

in a constructive way.

Each hour has help for him,

and all the moments

are worth spending time with.

Everything seems handy.

The sky

is all set and standing by. 

Monday, June 1, 2009

HOW TO HEAL

 

He knows that to heal

he has to be able to hold all things

in an effortless way.

The sky holds stars with ease,

the sands of all shores

hold sunbathers benevolently,

and please

holds thank you in its hands.

He has to learn

to let himself relax

when he holds a word in his mind

or a proud pencil in his hand.

He knows what’s wrong

will be right

when he holds

by loosening his grasp,

like the land does

when it lets him skip and spring.