A nation of stars
It is the waiting for the message, not the message itself.
~ Federico Fellini
~ Federico Fellini
Cynocis
I just can’t write a happy poem. It kills me, the sadness of it,
trying to strew joy and bliss and fluffy cheer across a page,
in this graying age, brings more melancholy than fulfillment.
Shall I rejoice in the early arrival of an unseasonal spring?
Delight in how spikes of damson lupine dagger the roadway
as great furballs of coyote ceanothus skirl winter halfway back?
Gush at how my heart gleams when standing beneath an owl
settling a twilight limb, embering Venus chasing down another
fallen sun waving sapphire surrender beyond the failing horizon?
Shall I stand serenely alone in the minted darkness and look up,
always up, where an unseen destiny waits to repatriate me to a
nation of stars, my true home, quiet, content, joyful at long last?
trying to strew joy and bliss and fluffy cheer across a page,
in this graying age, brings more melancholy than fulfillment.
Shall I rejoice in the early arrival of an unseasonal spring?
Delight in how spikes of damson lupine dagger the roadway
as great furballs of coyote ceanothus skirl winter halfway back?
Gush at how my heart gleams when standing beneath an owl
settling a twilight limb, embering Venus chasing down another
fallen sun waving sapphire surrender beyond the failing horizon?
Shall I stand serenely alone in the minted darkness and look up,
always up, where an unseen destiny waits to repatriate me to a
nation of stars, my true home, quiet, content, joyful at long last?
Joseph Gallo
February 19, 2013
February 19, 2013
post-time 9:36 PM
1 Comments:
Beautiful, Joseph. Reminds me of The Time Before Death, by Kabir.
http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/K/Kabir/TimeBeforeDe.htm
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