If we could sit down for one Christmas dinner,
together,
after all the years
had converged and split our hearts
into yesterday,
if we could gather around the table,
sit down before we lose our balance,
drunk with the wine of forgiveness
after all the tears have been wept
and still be blown away by the constant wind,
the angry sea calming, the moon smiling
jagged cuts on our faces,
the bleeding
from the inside out stopped with the
sweet fullness of time,
if i could forgive myself I could
forgive you for not knowing
any better.
"If" is such a huge word, poets use it sometimes,
it strings together hope,
it lifts us to the green mansions of when and
opens the door of now.
Today we are poets. Today we harvest the wind
and cherish its fallen fruit. We take the last bite
and enter the world of prodigals and heretics
on fire with ecstasy, free again like little children,
and those who have nothing to steal away
but for what we bring to our last supper.
hungry for our lost soul.
green mansions
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- Posts: 630
- Joined: March 29th, 2009, 8:09 am
Re: green mansions
"opens the door of now"----that is the crucial line of this poem----the reason for the poem too.
The Irish Sea Is Always In Turmoil, Even When Calm.
Re: green mansions
it's frustrating when our mind paints a picture of a desired possibility but then pulls the rug out....it would seem consciousness comes with booby traps already built into it....
powerful work...stark and honest.....the final stanza is dynamite
powerful work...stark and honest.....the final stanza is dynamite
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
Re: green mansions
nicely said...
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Allow not destiny to intrude upon Now
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Allow not destiny to intrude upon Now
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