Mute

I know this post comes a little late (not that I am ever one for schedules), but the internet decided to forcibly remove itself from my life. So, for the past three days, I have lived pro natura, and it has been both a pleasant and troubling experience. It was more than a little upsetting to see just how dependent I had become on something in which I don't really take any pleasure. These are the times when I wish we didn't have so many superfluous amenities. The more we're given, the more we are unable to refuse, and if the choice arises, man will always choose the greater over the less. But very frequently, the less is just what is needed. So now we sit at our desks and talk about how we can't live without the internet, when we never see just how little we are able to live with it. Anyways, this poem has nothing to do with that.


Mute

If our words were half as heady
as the thoughts we birth,
sending forth poor messengers
to stumble through the earth,
then our ears would ever course with
golden wine of song,
but mute we are, and mute we stay,
and mute, can only long.

Seasons of Mirth

Now that sunny days truly do appear to be upon us for good, it's about time for a summery poem. I hope this adds some lazy cheer to your lives.


Seasons of Mirth

As silent notes upon the air,
tuneless, but not untuned,
the augered elms extend their leaves,
in summer heat cocooned,
and turn their lofty, knotted arms
above the restful earth.
The hours do not trespass on
the seasons of their mirth.

Water Deep

Well, this poem was inspired by the first line of Ariel's song in Act I, Scene ii, of the Tempest. I still prefer Shakespeare's, of course, but what this lacks in ability, it makes up for in brevity. As an aside, that particular song in the Tempest also contains one of my favorite descriptive phrases - 'sea-change.' I never cease to be amazed at the way in which Shakespeare can beautifully capture so much meaning in merely a word or two.


Water Deep

Five fathom full, and far below,
bones, my bones, lie scattered so,
and sleepless my drifting ghost shall be,
till they lay drying by the sea.

Ordinary Treasures

As I read this now, it's tone, if not cheerful, is at least optimistic. I wrote this, however, in one of my darker moods, so I'm not quite sure where all the depression and angst went. Content-wise, it is about those countless things we take for granted in our lives that, in fact, are the greatest possible blessings. On a separate note, welcome back to those of you who went on the CL vacation (you know who you are). I had an amazing five days, and hope that your time was equally wonderful.


Ordinary Treasures

My friend, my friend,
how lucky you are.
All that you count common,
I yearn from afar.

So always remember
these treasures you hold.
Then you will grow richer
as others grow old.