Long Poems on Kahlil Gibran

We are all like the bright moon, we still have our darker side.”
                                                  -Khalil Gibran

I

Cry with me, sultry night;
pray for the sentient things
crawling ‘neath your sight.
Glow your moon’s pale light.
Illuminate those whom pine for all
to be right and the fields of things
who count not the hours,
but wave in the wind endlessly
and futilely.
Pass me under safe care tonight,
let the voices lead me softly along:
a muted song.
Cry with me, sultry night.    
...

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.'
-Khalil Gibran


My God, I thought you had loved me,
as sunlight dancing through a leafy tree
and the trunk, a rough exterior,
but surely a siphoning pith within.
I held the water on my skin and loved it
and in this way, I thought you had loved me.

My God, I thought you had propelled me
like pirouetting seeds jettisoned on a soft breeze
under a great maple tree to land softly
on a canopy of mossy dampness all around me
and yet...

I told the night, ‘I am mad’,
and The Night replied, ‘Nay, you are not,
for you wonder of it and are not quite sure’.

‘But I am certain’, I replied,  
‘Nay, you are not, for you incessantly look back
to remenisce, not forward to uncharted steps’.
 
‘But I am like you, O Night, for my Heaven  
and Hell are the same at once’.
‘Nay, you are not like me’, said The Night,
‘For you fear Heaven and are too comfortable
in Hell’.
 
‘But I am boundless like you, O Night’.
‘Nay, you are not, for your world is...

Greatest Fires

Where are the poems I've yet to write
the ones in ether between the worlds?
look to the sky to find their source
in nature's grasp the words will show
I'll walk to woods to find the spark
the muse says seek there for the fount
it is not what you would expect
when you’re inspired by nature’s breadth.

The paths below the trees are broad
passage shorn by human kind
by cut of blade and stamp of feet
made to ease the travels there
though it seems the moment blinks
waiting for the men to leave
before the tracks...