HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY FROM FAR AWAYHappy Mother’s Day from far away!As love has wings, it flies across the sea,Passing seraphim alight with glee,Placed in nooks on clouds along its way.Years cannot such innocence betray,Morning’s holy light perpetuallyOn fire within the heart, a pillar weThen follow through the desert night and day.Here, then, is my love, and as it lands,Exchange it for a pigeon of your own,Returning through the heavens what I once,’Ere you were born, delivered to your door.So are we eternal, though the sandsDemand of us that piece that is on loan,As love renews, renews the ancient dance,Yet dancing though the wide world be no more.HOW CAN HOPE BECOME A WAY OF LIFEHow can hope become a way of life,A principle determining one’s ends,Putting what might be before what is,Postponing pleasure till the sacrificeYields the dream–naked, yes, but real?Granted, one might choose to live one’s lifeRemoved from the morass of means and ends,Avid for the ecstasy of is,Desiring neither change nor sacrifice,Undone by the raw rapture of the real.A moment is a point upon a lifeThat serves by will or chance enduring ends.In time one sees will be and was in is,Opening one’s heart to sacrifice,Needing larger nows to hold what’s real.HOW CAN I TELL YOU WHAT I FEEL FOR YOUHow can I tell you what I feel for you?When I think of you my feelings twist insideAs if someone’s fist reached in and grabbed a few,And turned and turned them tight and tangled. I’ve triedSomehow to say: You’re the sun in my sky,The wind that takes me where I want to go,The sweet incense that makes me feel so highThat loving you seems all I need to know.But it all sticks in my throat! It sounds too cute,Empty as a wrinkled paper bag.You won’t believe it! Better I stay muteThan offer you cliches that make you gag.And yet I wish to tell you of my love,If only love its own locks would remove!EVERY TIME I SEE MY PANSIESEvery time I see my pansiesVivid in the golden sun,You are with me in my garden,And I am once again a child.Vivid in the golden sun,Their beauty brings me close to tears,And I am once again a childLearning to assume your grace.Their beauty brings me close to tearsAs I join hands with you in love,Learning to assume your grace,Dancing to your inner music.As I join hands with you in love,You are with me in my garden,Dancing to your inner musicEvery time I see my pansies.HOME IS A MYTH THAT MUST BE RECREATEDHome is a myth that must be recreatedAs every generation comes of age,Placed by their own children on the stagePrecisely when their fantasies have faded.Yet one is more than amply compensatedFor playing well the well-wrought saint or sage,As love wells up beneath the camouflage,The truth that makes the myth immaculate.How beautiful it is to be a father!Emperor forever of a dreamRepeated through the labyrinths of longing’Mid memories more true than what has been.Sing, then, of myths that tie one to anotherDeep beneath the bulwarks of belonging,As tales begun before the words beginYet fabricate the worlds in which words mean.A WEDDING IS THE ENTRANCE TO A MARRIAGEA wedding is the entrance to a marriage:One drives through, and suddenly one’s there!Stepping from a fairy tale carriageInto quite ordinary air.Life is now a dance, though beautiful,Requiring intense coordination;Each self becomes, in ways inscrutable,More fully what it is in combination.And we who love you wait, of course, outsideAs you become through love that mystery:One flesh made whole of separate groom and bride;Two selves, one life; two notes, one harmony.When you are one, we then may cherish two:Loving not just one, but both of you.HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LOVEHappy birthday to my love!A song of joy for you!Perhaps these words will touch the heart,Perhaps these words will do.Yet words are but the clothes of love,Best when oft removed!In place of sybaritic words,Rapture has been provedTo be the richer rhetoric,Heaven’s poetry,Delivered by the silent tongueAs lovers sing the whole night long,Yes! Yes! in harmony.