The Melody of Reality
The violin wept,
it wept so sadly.
the tearful tones stole
through the song of my soul,
longingly, liltingly, madly.
February 11, 1965
For Emily Dickenson
Fleet ruby-throated, darting poems…
a jewelled hummingbird in red, red foxglove.
October 16, 1966
a star comets out of eternity
its white light entailing our sun
in a festoon of billowing brilliance.
Smog smudges against
the windows of our minds,
and a city of scientific lights
blots this ethereal visitor
from our dark, confused sky.
Unseen, it returns to eternity
November 7, 1965
“For my Little Brother James”
God has his eye upon the sparrow,
though but a farthing it doth cost.
But also upon the crow,
not one hath e’er been lost.
One frail, baby crow hath met the Savior
when hungry caws scratched the air.
But doubt not God’s benign behavior,
little black feathers are warmer there.
Can you now behold our feathered nest,
once so cold, from up on your golden bough?
Can you see our abundance, our bounty, and sated rest
and wish that you ne’er it saw?
Little crow, my word I pledge,
by God’s grace,
my black wings shall never rest.
I’ll keep on planting God’s seeds
in the waiting fields
for the great harvest.