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"The poet anticipates the chair being kicked out from under him at any given moment." -wcg     Excerpted from The Poet Knows. See blog.


{Ingenious Pain}


Of all the books and voices I have read–

Observing from my post the teeming day

Of all the burdened spirits gone ahead–

Sit me down, hand to breast, and soundless pray

To those whose lives are breaths upon a page

A passion can endure though reason doth allay

Strong be the blightened soul–though body serves to cage

Dance with the Dreamer, the dew of softened rain–

What of one’s years when an hour bears no age?

Lilac's Whisper, Willow's Cry–each a name

We ask to know, we perplex to discern

Death be not afraid–it is ingenious pain!

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