The Grave-Digger
Once, as I was burying one of my dead selves, the grave-digger came by and said to me,
“Of all those who come here to bury, you alone I like.”
Said I, ” You please me exceedingly, but why do you like me?”
“Because, said he, “They come weeping and go weeping —
you only come laughing and go laughing.”
~ Kahlil Gibran
In Praise of My Bed
At last I can be with you!
The grinding hours
since I left your side!
The labor of being fully human,
working my opposable thumb,
talking, and walking upright.
Now I have unclasped
unzipped, stepped out of.
Husked, soft, a be-er only,
I do nothing, but point
my bare feet into your
clean smoothness
feel your quiet strength
the whole length of my body.
I close my eyes, hear myself
moan, so grateful to be held this way.
– Meredith Holmes
What We Want
What we want
is never simple.
We move among the things
we thought we wanted:
a face, a room, an open book
and these things bear our names-
now they want us.
But what we want appears
in dreams, wearing disguises.
We fall past,
holding out our arms
and in the morning
our arms ache.
We don’t remember the dream,
but the dream remembers us.
It is there all day
as an animal is there
under the table,
as the stars are there
even in full sun.
~ Linda Pastan
Moon, Flowers, Man
I raise my cup and invite
The moon to come down from the
Sky. I hope she will accept
Me. I raise my cup and ask
The branches, heavy with flowers,
To drink with me. I wish them
Long life and promise never
To pick them. In company
With the moon and the flowers,
I get drunk, and none of us
Ever worries about good
Or bad. How many people
Can comprehend joy? I
Have wine and moon and flowers.
Who else do I want for drinking companions?
~ Su Tung P’o
(translated by Kenneth Rexroth)
Gift
A day so happy.
Fog lifted early, I worked in the garden.
Hummingbirds were stopping over honeysuckle flowers.
There was no thing on earth I wanted to possess.
I knew no one worth my envying him.
Whatever evil I had suffered, I forgot.
To think that once I was the same man did not
embarrass me.
In my body I felt no pain.
When straightening up, I saw the blue sea and sails.
~ Czeslaw Milosz
Little Things
Little things I’ll give to you-
Till your fingers learn to press
Gently
On a loveliness;
Little things and new-
Till your fingers learn to hold
Love that’s fragile,
Love that’s old.
~ Marion Strobel
Years From Now
Although I cannot see your face
As you flip through these poems awhile,
Somewhere from some far-off place
I hear you laughing – and I smile.
~ Shel Silverstein
Blue Hills Over the North Wall
Blue hills over the north wall;
White water swirling to the east of the city:
This is where you must leave me —
A longe puff of thistledown
on a thousand mile journey.
Ah the drifting clouds
and the thoughts of a wanderer!
The setting sun
and emotions of old friends.
A wave of the hand now
and you are gone.
Our horses whinnied to each other at parting.
~ Li Po (AD 701-762),
Trans. Innes Herdan
There is a Stream
There is a stream which rises
halfway down the mountain
My father showed it to me
place he found in a dream,
the withered spirit of an old Indian
leading him like a wisp of fog
to its banks
I shall go to the last water
when I am old
and my blood runs
like the sad Hudson River
heavy with the waste
of civilization
I shall go there
and wade into those clear ripples
where the sandy bottom
is spread with stones
which look like the bones
of beautiful ancient animals
I shall spread my arms
in that sweet water
and go like a last wash of snow
down to the loon meadow
in the last days of April.
~ Joseph Bruchac
