Well today is the last day of National Poetry Month. I thought about
putting up these poems for the occasion, written many years ago, but
after the incredible poetry by Emily Dickinson posted yesterday, I
balked. But then I ran the poems by my sister. And she really liked
them, and thought that I should post them.
So here they are.
Where were you, these past cool Spring nights,
when I looked for you? I realize that all the
winter past I have been gone, out doing useless
battle. But you must know that I would not have
left you a single day if the times were not such.
Perhaps there might have been once a happier time.
Perhaps you and I, when we walked together last,
might have shared a moment of peace. But the world
knows evil, and we must share, even in one last
kiss, the world. I have dreamed of the dream
that I could be with you. But senseless death
surrounds us. It has taken from us so many days,
and so soon, so many songs of the birds of Spring.
How long have you carried it with you, that weight from the past?
Did you not know that eventually you would not be able to live
without it? You put the book back on the shelf and, laying down
on the bed, you hear the the ticks of the clock, and the sound
of the distant trains.
What is it that you regret? What is it that you fear? Perhaps
it is just that realization that what you once loved can never
equal the predominate emptiness of the night, that night which
lies around you like a winter fog, sedate in its own beauty.
You tremble as you think about the past, the future. But what
are they if not just one unimaginable violet that opens up,
in your troubled sleep, towards some sense of light that you
can not possibly comprehend? Voyager, that moment exists
within you, even as the stars above you fall.