Author: martin (Page 11 of 31)

I put my author
On the bridge,
(There’s going over and
There’s crossing),
He will say that
I’m looking for starlight
Or direction,
Of the place to find a voice
Between all worlds

In the event of success
He imagines Einstein,
To live longer in the question,
He foresees Ghandi, wishing
To converse with ruthless compassion,
He will seek the mother also,
Her cradle and her rock,
(as a special favour)
To speak of that which had gone unsaid

All this and
To fix at the intersection
The elements of story:
Beginning, middle, end.
He will return with insight
With composure and understanding
To write the mind, on the bridge between,
Under which, life flows.

Martinos @ 2016

the first line of a poem is a window,
to let the light in
across the sill

through each imperfect pane
swirls in the glass
amend perception

to look in
alters the view

the next line of a poem enters further
into a room, many rooms
where light falls diffuse;
to pass down a corridor and touch patchwork, or

thread edges of fabrics
of lived in textures

and in so touching
alters the view

the third line of a poem makes a home
for the heart
to take up residence,
to visit where spaces and shapes partly familiar,
alive at the peripheral,
perpetually shift

and most importantly,
alter the view.

Martinos © 2016

as temporal as is mind, will

all that is connected pass

as all wonder that can be recorded will?

with this life force

can I as guardian or as spectator of this wondrous light

move with wave and particle in simultaneous might?

wherein life’s delicate paradox to cherish

to place the fealty of grateful servant,

wherein the realm of infinite possibility

to place an effort that will matter.

I will wait for insight, to glimpse

what might emerge from within such dilemma, will I find

there is nothing that can be altered?

save to see that an entry point to understanding,

is in and of itself: conundrum

Martinos © 2016