21 Wednesday Feb 2018
Posted in Uncategorized
The aspen is clothed,
Its limbs reach toward heaven
Alight with rime and worship:
A great one has passed
At ninety nine years–
The lives that are touched
At ninety nine years–
Mine, my grandfather’s,
The time overlaps,
spreads over the landscape
So that all are touched,
All are clothed.
It is zero today,
And I wanted to write
That hell is cold–
Until I saw the aspen
Clothed in hoar frost.
All the world has become
The aspen, outlined in ice.
03 Thursday Sep 2015
Posted in Uncategorized
Tags
Black Hole, Event Horizon, Germany, Ghandi, Greece, Heaven, Hell, Hope, Iraq, Italy, Light, Love, Milky Way, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Refugees, Souls, Spirits, Supermassive Black Hole, Syria, Turkey
In the center of the Milky Way,
Exists a black hole
Equal to 4.3 million suns.
Its gravity so strong,
There is no light.
We stand on the edge,
An event horizon,
Or, the point of no return,
As refugees push out
And we argue about definitions.
Mothers and fathers,
Children,
Who dream of a good Germany,
A Europe with jobs and new homes.
They launch into black holes:
The Aegean Sea,
The Dark Sea,
Floating back in waves,
Absent of light.
We wonder at this hell,
A place of suffering,
And hope for something beyond,
A better place
Where there is love,
There is light,
Light in a Black Hole.
