Wednesday, November 7, 2018

Flying With

This date and this progression of time have got me remembering a poem posted 8 years ago. I will repost it now, with the compassionate comment of my dear friend Willie and my reply. I would welcome comments now too. This sort of poem, a kind of elegy, invites remembrance in all of us of those who brought us into this incredibly beautiful world.

Sunday, November 7, 2010


Flying With

[with thoughts of L. J. E., b.Jl. 29, 1910, d.Nov.7, 1960]


Wind ends nowhere,
Erodes sand, yardang,
Clay, shakes roof,
Web, hair and lifts
The matted woof of
Forest floor away.
Cyclic, like night
And day, causes
Clouds to spread,
Spins storms to
Shred on hills, crags,
Drags seed onto new
Meadows and, under
Spill and spell, leaves
A distillate
Of rainbows --ends nowhere,
Begins in mystery.
Between, it
Tests eternity.

2 comments:

  1. While this poem's dedication refers to folks I don't think I ever knew, your details get me down to the level where I'm pulled into knowing them as much as I know anything else from dust to dust, flesh to flesh. Inchoate but expressible by words well bespoke, mystery and eternity lie here indeed!

  2. You know I seldom dedicate poems, am uncomfortable with elegy, but this is the 50th anniversary of my dad's death. You know how these mysteries go. We're always knotting sheets together and escaping out the orphanage window.

8 comments:

  1. I enjoyed the poem, it reminds me of what I believe, and that's that life continuously goes on.

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    1. Thanks, Lon. Life has gone on, indeed, since we evolved from primordial goo. It promises to continue --so far so good.

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  2. Oh wow...this is so deeply touching, Geo...actually made me cry as I read it!
    Indeed...you have expressed here the inexpressible.
    So incredibly beautiful...😊😊

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    Replies
    1. Dear Ygraine, Thank you. My father died suddenly when I was only 10 years old, but I still see him sometimes in dreams --an accessible and calming presence.

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  3. Lovely images, Geo. Special dates tap deep emotions, don't they?

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    Replies
    1. They do Indeed, Jenny. Depending on lives touched, no one's influence ever ends.

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  4. I'm awestruck by your thoughtfulness with words ("forest floor," "spill and spell"...). You bring us to a conclusion so eloquently and inconclusively. The testing of eternity, indeed. Beautiful, Geo. Thank you.
    Stay safe.

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    Replies
    1. Dear Robyn, thanks. You stay safe too, deal?

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