"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–

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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

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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?

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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!