You won’t bury the lead
Your flag will remain
Like the pride we stand for
Memories will live
In the hearts we’ve given you.
You won’t lose the making
Of providence you’ve afforded
Your examples have led us
In every way
Through our tribulations and scorn
To our victories and glee.
You won’t be gone in the end
For our hearts carry you
I’m not giving up hope yet
For you’re always not far.
Tag: providence
Roses are Beautiful (day 1159)
My grandmother tells me that roses are beautiful,
That common sense is all around us.
She tells me that stars float on at night and
Clouds make perfect animals
Which change upon a whim.
She has upon her windowsill
An old foot I’ve always admired.
It holds in it (like a steady hand)
Utensils ready for marking.
To its right: new words for every day.
Never a day goes by without
Her graceful way of flipping.
With all her heart the words so dear,
Hold powers of deep providence.
And from that table, when sitting to dine
Upon a chair plumped by two softening cushions,
One can see through a window of far off China mountain.
More importantly, however, a quite a bit closer
In fact – just below her window,
Is a bush grown wild from years
Unceasingly blooming so.
It’s a rose, and she knows
How beautiful it is.
Between the Hours (day 823)
I think I forgot my whispers
Ones that wrote of yonder Princes
Striking down foreign conquerors
Wooing fair maidens
And stringing hearts of a thousand courtly ladies
While helping down the fair damosel
Just returned from toxic waters of journeyed shores
I think I forgot to share my love
To shout aloud upon the clouds
About the sky I journeyed to
As the lofty journeyer goes
Where lost was I upon seeing the hawk
And starlings grow
But couldn’t I, in all my guise
Demand a prize forever young
I never knew
I never dreamed
I never sat about the stream
For there I was
Tranquility
Shallow waters
Lost thought
I think I forgot an ancient order
That chivalry demanded
And Providence triumphed
That lasted ’til the morrow gathered
Which never came for long was laughter
Long were hands that guided home
Between the hours of jubilee & rest