It's All Been Done

-------It’s All Been Done-------

The same few words have been shared by every poet,

   in the field of the Commons where they were first sown,

today we gather,

   today we make bread,

from their ground and leavened seeds.

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Held and Home Again

-------Held and Home Again-------

We are held in place by the ever-moving, and

called to live by the promise of death.

There are prophets here who do not shout doctrine

nor look to the sky to answer their disease.

But who, when the willows start toward yellow,

with Spring anticipate the scythe.

We are held

by what we hold in our hands.

Our ethics born not of convention

but of duty,

to love in the old ways,

what has called to flower.

From seed to straw and home again

by the prayer of a steady swing.

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Poems in Your Eyes

-------Poems in Your Eyes-------

Say little, and everything you say will be heard.

Say it from the place that is honest, and everything you cannot say will be understood.

There is so much we could know,

so much we can do and say.

For we are 

Great.

But in our ultimate greatness we are humble;

shy almost behind a leg of the Mystic -

Not wanting to go too far out into the world

before knowing better the world just before us.

We have said it all

already.

Its purpose distilled 

into silence.

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The Sound of Spring

-------The Sound of Spring-------

Goodnight, 

my love.

Take this hollow reed 

and play it for the god 

behind your eyes.

For this world holds nothing more holy 

than what we hold already within.

Within dreams

rests the memory to its pure beginnings,

of the quiet that bore this Spring 

and for us this night to dance.

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