[lit-ideas] Re: A poem for this morning

  • From: "Lawrence Helm" <lawrencehelm@xxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • Date: Sun, 14 May 2006 09:49:02 -0700

-- Something I wrote back in 1988.

Lawrence

-----Original Message-----
From: lit-ideas-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx [mailto:lit-ideas-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx]
On Behalf Of Omar Kusturica
Sent: Sunday, May 14, 2006 8:56 AM
To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [lit-ideas] Re: A poem for this morning

Good poem, who's the author ? O.K.


--- Lawrence Helm <lawrencehelm@xxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:

>  
> 
>                                   Mornings come and
> go
> 
>  
> 
>          I vowed to creep out, up out of my youth,
> 
>          And stand upon some wild hill
> 
>          In a forest and wave my bloodied sword.
> 
>          I would have been gored by wild boars
> 
>          And an arrow shaft would glisten red
> 
>          With the blood from my thigh, but I
> 
>          Would breathe deeply, full of my own glory.
> 
>  
> 
>          The world spun and I grew confused,
> 
>          Till I dizzily tried to right it seeking
> 
>          Solidity amidst its whirl.  The light
> 
>          Glistened from the dew held in the petal
> 
>          Of a rose, and a deer raised its nose
> 
>          And sniffed the air unaware
> 
>          That I was anywhere about him.
> 
>  
> 
>          How could he know that this being
> 
>          Dripping with primeval slime
> 
>          Had climbed out on the bank
> 
>          Of eternity and held his life
> 
>          In the whim of his hunger?
> 
>          But I held all this in abeyance
> 
>          And looked again at the rose,
> 
>  
> 
>          Seeking its secret, the soft curve,
> 
>          The red that almost blurs the eyes,
> 
>          The fragrance of the brilliant mornings,
> 
>          Cool before the first day's breeze
> 
>          Such that one must lean down
> 
>          And approach quite near to hear
> 
>          Its message and taste its wonder.
> 
>  
> 
>          I have leaned down now these last
> 
>          Several years to hear eternity
> 
>          Whisper.  It has left no room
> 
>          For my youthful folly nor my dreams.
> 
>          I have seen a light around me
> 
>          Glimmer and at certain times have heard
> 
>          It call, with a soft insistence, my name.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> 


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