Night Rain: a cywydd deuair fyrion
Awake by chance,
I watched a flicker
in the dark clouds
growing quicker.
Drawn, I watched this
fleeting wonder:
the dull sound of
distant thunder;
the dreamlike build
of slow suspense
in too calm air
still warm and dense;
the dry leaves’ dance
along the street,
edges scraping
on the concrete;
the slow advance
of mist and rain
that gently fogged
the window pane;
the sudden spark
of jarring bright
as lightning cracked
the grey-black night;
the numbing taste
of ions churned
that caused my throat
and eyes to burn;
the sudden gusts
of storm-pushed wind
that hissed and moaned
through the tree limbs;
and then, the whip
of sleet and wind
that chilled my bones
and soaked my skin.
It raged an hour
and then was gone,
leaving small pools
that dried with dawn.
11 APR 2004
04.11.04
The Circling: a cyrch a chwta
The past is now dead and gone,
its Doppler echo a song
that fades and yet lingers on,
palimpsest written upon
then erased with each new dawn
born as a wobbly legged faun
yet grown each night to a stag
whose hooves drag the forest lawn,
old and feeble, a weak king,
Day’s prince become an aged thing
that twilight’s wolves will soon bring
down. Each night as this hart sings
winter’s lament, dawn, as spring,
struggles from the womb and swings
the world again from abyss
to the bliss of beginning.
11 APR 2004
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Easter by Telephone: a cyhydedd naw ban
In California after eating
they called up to offer a greeting,
their plates filled with beans and broccoli
ours with roast beef and mashed potatoes.
We passed the telephone back and forth,
discussing children and work; of course,
we spoke of weather and summer plans,
the price of groceries and minivans,
and then of mom, who now lives alone
in that big house, her children all grown.
We discussed if this year we would meet,
compared our schedules, and each month’s heat.
They want to visit, and spend a week –
catch up on all the news, so to speak.
I wonder sometimes if the link we share
is stronger because of distance there;
We meet rarely, just when someone dies,
and talks like these are a big surprise.
California, it has been so long
and I have grown up since I’ve been gone.
They just keep on talking in my ear;
although their voices are nice to hear,
I hand the warm handset to my wife,
thinking of Easter, and of new life.
11 APR 2004
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Musings on Holy days: common measure
My house is not a Christian home;
I serve much older gods.
So there are times this world and I
would seem to be at odds.
I do not mean the world, per se,
the growing, greening life;
but rather, those who fill it up
and wish to create strife.
I tolerate the point of view
of those who think their path
is the sole method for success;
I shake my head, and laugh.
Their holidays I don’t observe
(which raises a few brows),
and hold my tongue while they defend
and tout their sacred cows.
But they insist that I reform
(while standing at arm’s length)
and tell me that to find true peace
I need their Saviour’s strength.
With quotes from books and lengthy quips
my ears are filled and stuffed
(which makes me wonder now and then
why once is not enough)
Among my friends, I number some
from every path and creed;
and on the average, most of them
I’d help if they had need.
But those who shun my friendship
on the basis of belief
are those who I would rather leave
to their gods for relief.
Some are surprised that I believe
in anything at all;
the basis for my way of life,
they guess is base and small.
Without a weekly term at church
(which they seem to require)
it’s hard for them to understand
how I can stay inspired,
And live in peace and harmony,
extending helping hands
where needed to lift up each other
and meet life’s demands.
I rarely bother to expound
how I engage the world,
but instead prove by actions,
not words, with my fist uncurled.
From most, there is acceptance
(well, at least, an easy truce)
and where not, my philosophy
is conflict has no use;
For we must live together,
and one’s faith is private stuff;
there is no need to make demands –
The world does that enough.
There is a happy medium;
we do share common ground.
At their core, most religious paths
are similar, I’ve found.
All I suggest is sapiens
nihil affirmat quod
non probat. You do what you like;
I serve much older gods.
11 APR 2004
sapiens nihil affirmat quod non probat: a wise man states as true nothing he does not prove (don’t swear to anything you don’t know firsthand)
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