Temple

It is not the monuments I’ve seen, the mighty works of men, That have been for me the awesome scene of Being and all its ken. Instead it’s been the forest deep wrapped around the mountains, And the mountain high as heaven’s keep where white the snow retains. There my heart by my eye has …

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Orbiting

Descending down the high dome of the sky that curves eternity into eyes that in glory see the light of all the spheres come – Manifested of oceans subtle, and bent by endless attraction into round realms of living action where drama and death orbit and roll On and on never ceasing never letting the …

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I Rested There

I rested there, by the river, by the flowing water, gurgling and coming down the mountainside, where I sat as glaciers glared on down, looming and crackling against the silent atmosphere. I wandered there, alongside the forests cropped by the logging crews against the aged wood, guarded by thin beaucratic paper made out of the …

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‘The Voice of the Rain’ by Walt Whitman (1885)

And who art thou? said I to the soft-falling shower, Which, strange to tell, gave me an answer, as here translated: I am the Poem of Earth, said the voice of the rain, Eternal I rise impalpable out of the land and the bottomless sea, Upward to heaven, whence, vaguely form’d, altogether changed, and yet …

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Its Passing By

I love how the mountains melt into hills and then into plains and pour out into rushing rivers rolling towards the sea; how the blue sky encloses all and finally reveals nature’s wider form in the dark of night, away from the light, when all is stark and clear; where some great fir trees obscure …

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Libation

In praise of Beauty I serenade thee, Setting and rising Sun, splendorous be, In the might of heaven’s dancing colors. Let go never, please, the bright tethers That you grip and climb into the height And descend quietly upon your weight. You annunciate the lyrical tone, Shuddering from sky to hardened stone, The bliss every …

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