Wednesday, March 23, 2022

In The Tree

The bird, a robin I believe, was

on the yet bare branch of the maple

facing east, backside to me.

It could have been the Buddha

sitting there in the cold air,

looking into that cold light of dawn

and frost on the ground.  It was

not joined by any other bird 

and I had the sense it did not feel

alone or needed company – content

in the not yet budding maple 

looking east waiting, expecting 

nothing receiving all that’s needed.


-Byron Hoot

https://hootnhowlpoetry.com



Commitment to Disagreement

The leaves I did not rake last Fall

are on the ground.  We wait 

for the Spring winds and storms,

the first grass cutting.  We have formed

a pack to let things be as they are,

wu wei approach which has trickled

over into many parts of my life.

The art of knowing when to do nothing 

is a serious art form, capricious,

graceful, full of beauty and patience – 

to many utter foolishness.  But the leaves

and I disagree.

-Byron Hoot

https://hootnhowlpoetry.com              



 

Thursday, March 3, 2022

Dost Thou Remember

Dost thou remember, dearest heart,
Before our lives were torn apart
How oft we met beneath the pines
Through which the silver moonlight shines?

Dost thou remember, fairest one,
Our midnight joy rides and fun?
When oft we took paths obscure
And found delight in each detour?

Does memory fail you, oh, my love,
How from New River's heights above
We lingered long midst leaf and fern,
While friends awaited our return?

Will time erase the tragic scene
When love and passion swayed my Queen?
Where lash-horns met across the trail.

When storms had passed and fogs dispelled,
Some wondrous scenes our eyes beheld;
Again we view the flock with pride,
Each lamb is safe at mother's side.

But time has turned another page
And storms still in your bosom rage;
One question I would ask tonight:
Will love or passion win the fight?

-Walter C. Harris
Long Branch West Virginia
1876-1936

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

Clarity

Clarity                    

. . . and after the cold clarity of yesterday

and bright sunlight and strong wind which

took the snow away, Winter brought in

another snowfall.  Not much but the way 

your mom would say, “Don’t forget.”  The 

haunting truth of what was not to be 

forgotten though what held true would not

hold true forever.  So I look out and see 

the permanence of change about to begin – 

it is late Winter.

                          Outside and in.


"Give us peace in our time." from The Book of Common Prayer 1662


-- Byron Hoot

hootnhowlpoetry.com/"

Communion

I buy Fig Newtons occasionally. They  are a communion with that time when Mrs. Heinz  would give them to me when Dad and Mom, Reverend and M...