This morning I came across a poem I wrote a few years ago in response to an act of friendship and concern on the part of a friend. I tweaked and tidied it up a bit (are poems ever really finished?) and maybe it will help someone today like his gesture helped me back then. Say thanks to a friend today for the small gifts of kind words and simple faith.
I visited the churchyard in Stoke Poges occasionally to experience the peace, beauty and quiet of both the churchyard and St. Giles Church, part of which dates to the Saxon era. On one visit, this poem emerged, a reflection on the death of my father just a few years before.
The truth is, there’s just no way to see everything, which is why I find it so easy and rewarding to walk these same paths over and over. For it is never the same experience twice. The camera helps me to see and remember (and to share with others what I have seen), but mostly it has taught me to slow down, to focus, to pay attention to movement and color and light. More than anything, to light.
(for the 100th anniversary of Mark Twain’s death, April 21, 1910)
This poem recently won first place in the Big River Writing Contest sponsored by Chesterfield Arts and Stages St. Louis. The contest celebrates Mark Twain & the Missouri River Valley region.
It is you, the spinner and weaver, we see
big and brash and full of [...]
The older I get, the more I think that is exactly my work and my call — to stand still and learn to be astonished a little more often. For our lives and our work rushes by us and whirls around us at dizzying speeds, and when we don’t stop to pay attention and be mindful the world around us never comes fully into focus.
We all have our ideas of how the world came into being. I liked to think God was having a good time when that first light was cast…
Some choose “carpe diem” as a life philosophy and live the proverbial “eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die,” which indeed appears to perhaps be Horace’s original meaning. In the name of this carpe diem some get in touch with the darkest part of themselves, engaging in often self-destructive behavior. But there’s more to carpe diem than this. There’s more than one way to seize the day.
Here’s a villanelle I wrote a few years ago to celebrate the joy and the promise of Christmas. It appears as a spoken-word poem with original music by Phil Cooper on Nathanael’s Creed’s new Christmas CD, “Home Again with You.”
Here’s a poem I wrote a few years ago for my daughter Jenny, now 18, when she was learning to drive. This “sliver of a silver crescent” moon has since become “our thing,” and whenever either of us sees it (I have no idea when or how often the moon takes this shape…) we call each other. I’ve come to love the moment when my phone rings and I hear Jenny’s voice say, “Daddy, look in the sky! It’s our moon!”