THE WORD
Down near the bottom
of the crossed-out list
of things you have to do today,
between “green thread”
and “broccoli,” you find
that you have penciled “sunlight.”
Resting on the page, the word
is beautiful. It touches you
as if you had a friend
and sunlight were a present
he had sent from someplace distant
as this morning—to cheer you up,
and to remind you that,
among your duties, pleasure
is a thing
that also needs accomplishing.
Do you remember?
that time and light are kinds
of love, and love
is no less practical
than a coffee grinder
or a safe spare tire?
Tomorrow you may be utterly
without a clue,
but today you get a telegram
from the heart in exile,
proclaiming that the kingdom
still exists,
the king and queen alive,
still speaking to their children,
—to any one among them
who can find the time
to sit out in the sun and listen.
~By Tony Hoagland, from Sweet Ruin, University of Wisconsin Press, 1992
NOTHING TO WEAR
It was just turning dawn when my journey began
And the road looked beautiful under the sky.
Don’t ask me what I’m taking, I have nothing
to wear
My bags are empty, and my hands are bare.
A light will be shining when I arrive
The evening star where music is heard.
On second thought, I’ll be wearing my ring
What more need I take to marry the king?
On The Shores of Eternity, Poems from Tagore on Immortality and Beyond, Deepak Chopra
I love these two poems. They connect to something that has been in my mind: nearly 50 years ago I took over the lease of an apartment in NYC. The previous tenant left a 2 foot tall Norfolk pine in a pot in the front window. I am not a dedicated gardener but commited to the minimal care required to keep the tree alive. It moved with me to various apartments and homes and is now 8 feet tall. I had the realization recently that this tree has been a silent sentinal on my life, keeping watch every day, being present at the rhythms of my life large and small, glorious and grievous. It simply is, it simply continues to live. I asked my son-in-law to take over stewardship of the tree in the future when I no longer can and he agreed. How wondrous!
Wondrous Indeed! Thank you for amplifying the poems!