In Neil and Dorsey’s new house
the statue of serene Buddha
stands in the garden, inviting
(I like to think) discourse
with plants and passing butterflies.
I expect that the nature spirits
respond to the courteous request.
Looking east while reading haiku
Neil can see tree limbs
illumined by dawn. Consolation
for the great tree felled by storm
at their old house. How
could they have stayed there
after that? The soul was gone.
Now ten generations
of butterflies (Monarchs)
traverse the new garden
en route from Mexico
to Canada and back.
The old place, driven past,
looks small and dark. Of course.
The new house seeds new poems.
I steal some happy lines.
Stone walkways in the garden,
gemstones in the floors,
doors with blue and purple —
this house is a work of art
and art is no small thing.
NaPoWriMo Day 22
Some lines, phrases and pieces of information appropriated
from Neil Meili’s chapbook ‘Ten Generations of Butterflies’.
(Austin, Tx, New Texas Press, 2010)
I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')
These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.
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