Pain rises from the earth and hurts the stars.
Their faces pale, listening to earth's anguished cries;
while men below stare up at those cool fires,
comforted by the vast and tranquil skies.
THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAINS
The stone man stares out of eyes of stone,
one century to every beating of his heart,
but what he sees is truly seen and known--
time, as the world crumbles and falls apart.
Conjunctions of angels, winged meetings in the air--
the crouched-down, brutal couplings of beasts--
love-making, rage, hate, tenderness, pure lust--
all human passions blent, made one, laid bare.
Watching our grown-up children lead their lives,
their joys, their griefs still ours to meditate,
how anxiously we watch as each choice weaves,
strand upon strand, the gathering web of fate.
THE TRUTH SEEKERS
Endless the search for truth--our minds too small
to grasp the huge distinctions of the real.
But on we blunder. What but the impossible
is worth this life-long quest we're born to fail?
THE DISJUNCTION OF THE TWAIN
Passion conjoins the yin, the yang--
the male, the female universe.
O Yin, where has our yin-yang gone
now all our fires have turned to verse?
An ice-cold moon, afloat in a coal-black sea
carves faint blue, cut-out shadows from the trees;
and through the woods orange-windowed houses glow,
shedding memories, long-lost memories on the snow.
ENJAMBMENT (or THE POET'S END)
A life of words, now wandering off the page
into the vast, still lexicon of night--
where each word shines with a fine ecstatic rage,
and every meanings clear, gilt-edged with light.
This is the final voyage, the last frontier--
beyond warp-speed of light, past space, past time,
where all must venture, stripped of their bodies, bare
of memories, every loved thing left behind.
Copyright 2010-2012 Paul Petrie