Again

I remember 9-11 felt like this:

an unearthly quiet in the air.

As if all Nature knew the great

blasphemy being committed,

knew also there was nothing

to do but delay repentance,

forgiveness, dreams and visions.

I waited then, as I do now, for news

beyond party lines, for the unspeakable 

to somehow be understood, for 

the word “Over” to be the prayer 

heard and answered.  There is an

unearthly quiet to this day as bombs

drops, guns fire, lives are taken away. 

I fear some second coming

no apocalypse has ever contained

to appear at the edge of my front porch – 

impossible to get away.

-Byron Hoot

hootnhowlpoetry.com 

New River Canyon

Vast fortunes spent to advertise,
In every land beneath the skies,
Has caused the multitude to roam
Far from rich beauties closer home.

The rich play-boys who risk their scalps,
With every trip across the Alps,
Would move with awe-inspiring tread
On heights above New River's bed.

The Colorado deep may flow,
Through mighty canyons far below;
But those who know will place their bet
On grander canyons in Fayette.

To those of you who cross the pond
To view the valley Aggalon,
Will see far more when you stand,
And view America's Switzerland.

What offers more enchanted gaze
Than looking through the purple haze?
Symmetric beauty mile on mile-
Vast mountain ranges file on file.

O roads of asphalt, smooth as glass
The wheels of traffic swiftly pass;
While through the valley far below
Is swiftly speeding C & O.

Lift now your eyes to azure blue
Through which the fiery chariot flew,
Then lower them to deep abyss
Where demons howl and serpents hiss.

Two questions now you entertain
While mind of mortal man is sane.
And answer to them none can tell,
How high is Heaven-how deep is Hell.

Words are too tame and speech too mean
To paint the grandeur of the scene.
But if you want the high and low,
New River Canyon is one grand show

-Walter C. Harris
Pax West Virginia
1935

https://sites.google.com/view/waltercharris/home

https://vawestva.livejournal.com/2506.html

A Little Morel

“After such knowledge, what forgiveness?”

I know that conclusion well but consider:

After such knowledge what else but forgiveness?

Nothing restored to what it had been, but 

the changed utterly of time and circumstance

morphs into what is the past a lesson 

in a meditation hall, a grove of trees,

a whispered dialogue of love now not

to be and that forgiveness that does not 

offer redemption nor a second chance

simply acknowledging things are as they

are and forgiveness that releases one 

from the past is the only sensible act

to perform not for the other but for

yourself to set yourself free from 

antiquated knowledge turned to 

a lesson once learned needing no 

repetition.  The easy thing is holding 

on, the hard thing is letting go –

so much of who we are invested 

in what went wrong we forget those

moments are Zen masters speaking 

in koans, sages in parables, poets

seeing what never was seen before 

and that OM of recognition, that Aha

of acceptance, that kicking of the dust

off our feet at a door no longer opening.

I have loved that line since I first read it;

but wish there had been more, that movement

where forgiveness closes and opens another door. 

-Byron Hoot

 hootnhowlpoetry.com.