Saturday, May 30, 2009

a conversation on faith

Speaking of religion during the down times
at work in the empty hospital operating room
you spoke so knowingly of how these spiritual
structures were constructed

and the baptist deacon's wife was put out
by the talk of the buddha and the
sly notion that, well, perhaps her faith
was good for some people

and at the top of this heap you stood
on the ground that perhaps there was some deity
or prime spirit somewhere in all these traditions
and yet in all truth there you stood
yes, you stood under your pith-
helmet of thought
like an old-fashioned anthropologist
in these savage lands

what am I supposed to do, how exactly
will I disagree?
but still I can feel that the land
is strong if savage, and faith can no more be built
than we could build vegetables
for all that we cultivate and work the soil

for all the dirt in our two nostrils
and beneath our nails, the fruit of the earth
makes us glad as the days grow dark
if this is simple, it is simple
as a sound sleep
and a new day.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

For Memorial Day, 2009

The sun has left the memory of its new born strength
in the dark air that blows boughs
caught all around a streetlight's aural glow
stirring the shadows below, how the night lengthens
the lines that leaves make

i take a trunk in my two hands, raise
my head to the flowing sky, all around me the spirits fly
tree-crown sends its own wild cry and my hair
could stand electrified, my hair could flow

like when, hanging dog-like out my window
it blew around my head as I crossed ford parkway bridge heading home
the open river sending chill blasts of wind up to shake me
down
it shook me down to tears, like your memory with new born strength
taking me in it's bony arms, holding me to its wind-whistled no-thing ribs.