He sits rapt as a parrot overlooking A perfect mirror image of itself and thinks: Atonement is a stone in the river. Astonishment is not. A poet of the ‘gentle Ideas of philosophy’, the heir Of Ta’o Ch’en, who belongs To the clarity of poetry, He has no thoughts on The toucan encrusted bridge Built across the arc of his life span. Great is that memory of the mountain. For if memory allows you to look backwards, It also allows a peek into the future, The spill of the seasons. The air smells of pears and tears. This is our poem:
Atonement is a stone in the river. Together we flow into a gentle sea, Mei and I. How great is that secret memory of the mountain. Among many islands, a vision appears
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,Or on a rainbow of the salt sand-wave..;John Keats
The Sun Rose is beautifully named;
It goes well with 'dry chrysanthemums.'
Which are the very epitome of a chant--
Why, even the water-lily can sing
As the shades descend from the sky.
As the shades descend
They pause to look at the flowers.
They paused to look at the flowers Because they were here to revive An earth they needed to believe in– and for that they needed flowers. As the shadows descend To an earth of delicate surmise The sun rose and the garden beckoned.
I don’t know about you, but I have been feeling the need to do something positive for the world, and here it is! This book was just published by the Four Windows Press. And not only does contain ten poems by me, it’s got thirty other poets who are doing some of the best writing today. (And it surprises me to be saying this.) but listen to this from Anna Mark.
I will never forget the day he died and I congealed,
Became a still and hard world opposing an immensity,
This is from a poem called ‘First Death’. And it’s as good as anything you’re likely to find written today.