A Mere Occasional Poem

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Not as bad as many, not terribly good as it stands, but worthy of work and therefore of any comment. Ignore the spacing troubles--notoriously difficult to get right in html--the indents should align just after the last character of the previous line.

On a Blossom of Hibiscus

This hibiscus flower flutters open
here in the bright sun, orange folds expand
and remind me how much good that I have
now is due to others.

                         All I have built
kingdoms of the mind unimagined in my
youth, has been sweetened by waters many
others have drawn, brightened by the sunlight,
undimmed even by my own reluctance,
fear, anger, and sheer sloth.

                         Look and see the
orange flower in open-faced surprise
rippling in the wind’s cool embrace. What joy—
being where this is a commonplace, where
every breath is a breath of the sea, where
I can hear in bird-call and in storm winds
not only the voice of nature but the
glorious chorus of all those who knew
how to teach me to see, to hear, to know.

Each bloom, each surprised face a lingering
revelation of the light that charges
everything and transforms all living things.

© 2002

Note: The poem is an acrostic and though written for an occasion, I hope transcends the event and speaks to issues beyond the isolated event.

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This page contains a single entry by Steven Riddle published on December 18, 2002 7:34 AM.

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