To convey in words
The beauty of this moment -
I write for salvation !
The pain and sorrow I sometimes feel
Sealed in a letter to the sky
Where the spirit is freed
By the air sublime.
Sometimes I dare hope
Within me, yearns for air.
To bring into the World
This child I cannot yet bear.
Looking to myself
I see tomorrow born
Into this world as a Child so fair.
As if a dream we all try to make it real ---
To give this small hour some Might Heir.
I still want to sit in the sun awhile
And walk in the rain by your side
Yesterday clings to me---
I cannot escape it's logic.
Always my song is half finished.
Life Goes Past
Quickly, it seems,
Just as fast
As unremembered dreams,
Like temporary lodgings
Not properly cleaned.
There exists a glow
Beyond ordinary sight ;
By some hard-won Grace this beam
Can pierce the darkness with the light.
has struck a beneficent cord in my heart
I bless the world he says and I,
I experience the bliss
of what is
there are a thousand kinds of kisses
millions of songs
countless poems, written since the beginning
even dinosaur poems perhaps.
my breath in your presence is the deepest of kisses
Life, I love you too much
Song of the Mute Horseman
Always then I listened for
A voice from the darkness.
Now I hear
The wordless music of the spheres :
The sounds of time passing
As the years slip by ---
The song of the flute,
A tree falling in the forest
Or the unspoken words of the saxophone.
It is so varied...
It s all the same.
It is the tune of the mute horseman
Riding first toward us
But now away
At an ever increasing speed,
Disappearing into a misty horizon
Beneath the purple skies of a polluted sunset.
In this forest of light
Wandering with creatures in the night
The hungry beast in me
Stalks the singing bird I hold
Perched on the edge of eternity.
The forest is a very good place
To learn how
To make a poem -
Free and simple,
Revealing with shining hand,
Out the womb of the soul
Our creativity delivered
As a wild creature's foal.
I cannot tell you how
All my dreams are coming now
Small things are mine
And the wind
Before me in the trees seems to bow.
1982, PREMIER POETS - seventh biennial anthology
In my joy I am impervious to pain ;
I stand with wonder in the rain,
I am ready to walk a thousand miles,
To touch and feel and grow
Free of all restraint, while,
As the pristine showers end,
The clarity of this discovery ---
The beauty of this day ---
Astounds me !
Frogs and Crows
In our youth
We spoke of things that did not matter
We spoke of frogs and crows
And beasts that walk on tippy-toes.
When we remember the same words
We can be warm
In the cold reaches
Of the universe and on its windy beaches
1982, Dreams of the Heroic Muse, New Worlds Unlimited, Saddle Brook, New
In the philosophy of joy
I am a runner
Nearing that first full circle,
Passing the post,
Each moment closer
To the final wire.
1981, Images of the Mystic Truth, New Worlds Unlimited, Saddle Brook, New
Introduction "New" Work
New Millennium: Old and New
© Copyright, 2006, Mary Barnet.
All right reserved. Reprinted by permission