Nature is an art
All things show it;
I heard it once,
And now I know it.
Author’s Note: At Vista Point of San Marcos Pass over Santa Ynez Valley, Santa Barbara, CA
Tag: Poetry
In the eyes of Me.
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The new host of time
courtesy of google.com A new sun and a new moon visit on Wednesday
Of a new leap year with another day in February
Of the 2020th year of A.D in the Gregorian diary,
Marking Chapter 20 of the 3rd-millennium page,
Opening the 1st door of the second decade,
And chiming 20 bells of the 21st century.
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Nativity Haiku
The baby came to the world,
The light warmed the cold,
The star shone bright,
The manger became a delight. -
bewitched
Queen of Faeries, give me your glamour spells,
And take me in your Chariot of Wonder,
To join the ride on the crest of waves
And the flight to the end of the Equator.
Author’s Note: We all yearn for a haven, a niche, or a Shangri-La amid wrestling with the existential challenges that life presents to us. To dismiss such a yearning as a peevish repertory of a wastrel or an incompetent is a churlish disregard of the humanity and a supercilious judgment of individuality. William Butler Yeats saw the heart of the weary, and this is my tribute to his vision of the imagination in which I want to willingly waste my time.
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Chariot and two horses
The soul of man has his own chariot
With a driver and two winged horses:
The one eager for honorable praises;
The other intent on becoming corrupt
That only flogging and bawling can quell.
With the driver’s free rein on the mares,
The noble horse goes AWOL,
The ignoble heads dominance,
The chariot loses control,
All fall from the fantastic race
To the parched land of ignorance,
Then begins the rebirth of the race
Again, and again forever and ever.
Author’s Note: I remember reading about Plato’s Chariot Allegory that illustrates our journey to the end of enlightenment with its vividly dynamic images of the aerial chariot race too compelling to reserve for a silent appreciation in my mind’s reservoir. I wonder what my chariot race has been like thus far…
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The Library of the Bard in Babel
Byron said he woke up and found himself famous one morning, and I dare to say I woke up and found myself properly surprised this morning.
The cause of such pleasant surprise that gave a fillip to my otherwise grim and dreary Monday morning was my favorite author Stuart Kells’s tweet containing my previous poem titled “Where is his library?” inspired by his books Shakespeare’s Library and the Library: A Catalogue of wonders and his recent podcast interview with Abe Books about Shakespeare’s authorship. I am truly appreciative of his recognition of my humble writing often streaked with solecism due to English being my second language.
Thanks to this wonderful tweet, I could withstand the cruel cold morning at the barren train station waiting for the train to work this morning- with pleasure. C.K. Chesterton said a great person is great because he or she encourages others however amateurish their works may be. I can no other answer make but thanks and thanks and thanks.
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