The world
seems far
away

The world
seems far
away

The world
seems far
away
today.

The world
seems ill
at ease

The world
feels ill
at ease.

The world
seems ill.

As I walk
home
alone
today

As I'm
walking
home
alone

The world
seems far
away

The world
seems ill
at ease

The world
seems far
away

today.

7/29/19

LOVE
LOVE

Love
Love

Shall I
tell you
 
a secret

Shall I
tell you
a secret

My love?

Love
Love

Love is
the secret

Love is
the secret

My love.




DJW 5/14/19

Love and Light
Love and Light

the circle burns
all day, all night.

2/15

On Angels

All was taken away from you:  white dresses,
wings, even existence.
Yet I believe in you, messengers.

There, where the world is turned inside out,
a heavy fabric embroidered with stars and beasts,
you stroll, inspecting the trustworthy seams.

Short is your stay here:
now and then at a matinal hour, if the sky is clear
in a melody repeated by a bird,
or in the smell of apples at the close of day
when the light makes the orchards magic.

They say somebody has invented you
but to me this does not sound convincing
for humans invented themselves as well.

The voice -- no doubt it is a valid proof,
as it can belong only to radiant creatures
weightless and winged (after all, why not?}
girdled with the lightning.

I have heard that voice many a time when asleep
and, what is strange, I understood more or less
an order or an appeal in an unearthly tongue.

day draws near
another one
do what you can

Czeslaw Millosz,   1911 - 2004

I've been reading the biography of my favorite poet, Robert Lax, called Pure Act, by Michael N. McGregor. Beautiful story of a beautiful contemplative poet. This is a quote from Lax that I read last night: "This just occurred to me: my idea of a good contemplative is something more like a cow than it is like a dancing master." Ha!