I have been working on novel #3 this weekend. Meaning I did what I set out to do for a change. Meaning I did not chicken out at some point and just write an essay. I am also grateful for each of you in my modest substack coterie. Because I didn’t write an essay this weekend, I am sending you these three poems, which I like, but couldn’t really find a place for in the upcoming collection. (Did I mention I started writing poetry again this year, after about a decade of not doing that. I did. But I can’t share most of it yet.) Anyway, hope you enjoy…
Keep Burning
The poet saw
in this moment
a young boy
in an aged body
with a lined face
and a grey beard.
Unsure how this
could ever be,
he peered deeper
into his own eyes
and there he was,
the young boy,
smiling back at him,
shining a radiance
timeless and true.
A light that stood
in contrast
to the form
that housed it,
kept it safe,
made sure it
kept burning.
The Language of Happiness
I wonder where
Happiness is from,
where was it born,
what land, what sea,
what language does it speak.
Will it accept
our invitation
for supper or tea,
and how long will it be
our houseguest.
Is it seasonal,
like the rising
and setting sun
or an evergreen,
something to plant
and enjoy all year.
Is it a bird
that only sings
at dawn, can we
cage it, and if
so will it die?
Thumb on the Scale
Grace is the driving
force of the universe,
a divine benevolence,
a wholeness of being,
a vision that sees
beyond act and emotion
and misjudgment
and rash impulse,
into the essence
of each of us
as we move clumsily
through this dance
of our human lives,
through an existence
we may or may not
have chosen.
Grace is not weighing
your heart against a feather
on some underworld scale.
Grace puts its thumb
on that scale
and lifts your heart,
whether you believe
you deserve it or not.
Beautiful post, Tom.