{"id":3553,"date":"2019-11-21T04:54:18","date_gmt":"2019-11-21T04:54:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/brendans-island.com\/catholic-citizen\/?p=3553"},"modified":"2024-12-13T18:45:02","modified_gmt":"2024-12-13T18:45:02","slug":"10-poems","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/brendans-island.com\/catholic-citizen\/10-poems\/","title":{"rendered":"10 Poems"},"content":{"rendered":"

Perspectives<\/strong>
\nFairy wishes and toxic kisses,
\nWe hope and fear and dream.
\nLife and thought and feeling passes.
\nLooking back, I see what was.
\nAhead? I’ll see that later.
\n(November 18, 2019)<\/em><\/p>\n

Quiet Neighborhood<\/strong>
\nStill water, small lawn, a few trees.
\nA simple dock for visitors.
\nHouse with views on all four sides.
\nHazy sky, rippling water.
\nTime for thoughts and memories.
\n(November 6, 2019)<\/em><\/p>\n

Seeking Home<\/strong>
\nChanging seasons, changing yearnings.
\nOr perhaps a yearned-for haven,
\nGlimpsed from a long and winding path.
\n(October 25, 2019)<\/em><\/p>\n

Horizon<\/strong>
\nGlowing fog, green and auburn lawn.
\nStanding near a well-marked road.
\nShadeless trees, sentinels or guides.
\nThey hint at more beyond my sight.
\n(October 19, 2019)<\/em><\/p>\n

Companions<\/strong>
\nI walk the cobbled streets of Doom,
\nBetween between the dunes and downs,
\nBeneath Dundoom’s dim walls.
\nThe sun has set, the shadows grow,
\nMy footsteps’ echo fades.
\nAn empty town, an empty land,
\nApart from me and shades.
\n(October 10, 2019)<\/em><\/p>\n

Peering Through Time’s Prism<\/strong>
\nIt is, or was, or will be: the familiar triad of time.
\nBut then there’s the will-be that was.
\nAnd the will-be that hasn’t been yet.
\nPerhaps time’s a diad: done or still doing, will-be or not.
\nOr a tetrad of done or ongoing, unbegun or repeated.
\nPerhaps it’s a pentad, a hexad or more.
\nThe past as we see it, the past as it was.
\nA future we fear, or work toward with hope.
\nAnd perhaps it’s more motley, or varied and vast.
\nIf times outside “now” are not future or past.
\n(September 6, 2019)<\/em>
\n(A tip of the hat to Walt Kelley and C. S. Lewis)<\/em><\/p>\n

Songs<\/strong>
\nI come, he said, from distant shores.
\nI sing of wind and wave.
\nWe sing, they said, of snail and seed.
\nOf pond and stream and fen.
\nYou sail the wind, we ride the wave.
\nOur paths may cross again.
\n(July 5, 2019)<\/em><\/p>\n

Seedy<\/strong>
\nA seed by any other name
\nWould grow like weeds.
\nOr grow like a weed.
\nOr at least grow.
\nAh, well.
\nAnother one for the compost heap of my mind.
\n(June 6, 2019)<\/em><\/p>\n

Tomorrow I Will<\/strong>
\nTomorrow I will wake up. That’s my plan.
\nWhat will happen remains to be seen.
\n(May 31, 2019)<\/em><\/p>\n

Essentials<\/strong>
\nNeedful appearance, societal norms.
\nIndispensable software, umbrellas and scarves.
\nNecessities vary with places and times,
\nFrom the basics of life to our deep social needs.
\n(March 2, 2019)<\/em><\/p>\n

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Somewhat-related posts:<\/p>\n