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A poem a day to the Millennium December 6, 1999

(Joyce Kilmer's birthday)


does anyone find a god of their own sex
must opposite always play the 'better than'
is same boring or too much
why am i still here or am i
does 'you' have to sound accusatory
       or is it just the tone
       coming as it does not from the heart

there is no top rung on Jacob's ladder
climging higher to a god who's climbing too
women screaming for men they would also deny
all looking more closely at their spoken word
blurted from some past imprint
       silent in surrender only then
       bless the bones in passing dead

there is a turning not of our own hands
but what we turn is best we not deny
to fix a flat we have to know the road
wring our hands then hold firm on firm
before our heart, close eyes, relax
       muscles around the mouth, relax
       find the answers to our heart's desire

forgetting to relax between crisis
body full alert both day and night
TV jingles jangling in our brain
commercials calling "stop and buy me now"
manics screaming "Here is something real!"
       depressives hiding best they can
       nobody busy rocking cradle

rocking chair came from the rocking sea
in tides of work and rest we
remember heart of Earth that drums
drums meditation to a living art
not to replace it, not to erase it
       but to embrace It
       all stones, all fall down.

- Summer Music

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