The greats, the very greats had much to say,
and cast wide nets of thought for leaping forms;
but I sit by the May sun-fire that warms
the aches of absences time took away,
gazing into the bright, green flames winds play,
watching white sparks of seeds a rare gust storms;
and when thin clouds occlude, lift eyes, and arms,
childlike, to shield me from that veiled god's flay.
The blackbird opens nine wounds, stitches ten;
ambrosial, the hawthorn drugs so deep;
a meditation's all there is to know,
in which black bees, weaving, loom their zazen:
truth lies open; there is nothing one can keep;
and time's a long cloud-shadow, drifting slow.
..........................
Re Title - They do say (the utterers of proverbs) that there is no rest (or peace) for the wicked. ;)
Its a Petrarchan sonnet, rhyming a,b,b,a,a,b,b,a c,d,e,c,d,e - (although I had to cheat on 'arms' to go with 'forms'). ;)
Yeats had this to say of the modern man (I paraphrase, though one day will look up chapter and verse), that where Shakespeare's tragic characters would rage or philosophize, the modern man in the three act play simply gazes into the fire - such is the post-Victorian mode. Anyway, I've done plenty of raging in the past - evidence in earlier volumes. ;)
The white seeds, at this time of year are, of course, from dandelion globes.
Apollo (a sun god as well as a god of music) flayed Marsyas the satyr for daring to challenge him to a contest of music. Of course, sun-blindness and burn are kinds of flay.
"Zazen is considered the heart of Japanese Soto Zen Buddhist practice. The aim of zazen is just sitting , that is, suspending all judgmental thinking and letting words, ideas, images and thoughts pass by without getting involved in them" (Wiki) - and doesn't the word sound like a little bee?
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The Singing Season
شِعرThe Singing Season. That's the spring-time. You'll also like other MajorSeventh poetry collections - and there are so many to choose from.
