These Images
Thus like swans,
wings
wide open in the air,
when spring splashes lakes onto shores,
where in the
woods,
wild ducks wheeling in pairs
for a love nest, and snakes
after
spring's first thunders,
slide forth from winter's fields,
when raccoons
lose their minds
mating among maple leaves
in Quaker cemeteries,
and
golden smoke rises
above cypress trees, their needles
aquiver with too
much pollen,
when songs flow from their lips
and bare feet welcome the
embrace of sand,
where, under the tent of a white sheet,
eyes fall on the
sea-drenched forehead
of the beloved,
when the church bells
rings,
children dash through the lunchroom,
their jackets of tropical
fruit and birds of paradise
against the concrete ground of P.S. 19,
where
words are at stake,
and thoughts are immobilized,
where life shouts with
joy
and being is beauty and love
no longer clings,
where senses quicken
their steps
to enter hearts of things...
So simple, these images,
their recognition
is in our
nature,
yet too often neglected,
our eyes already elsewhere.
It is
beyond the gods
why we hold onto our sorrows
so long, and so
stubborn.
~ Wang Ping ~
(of flesh & spirit:
poems)
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