Feeds:
Posts
Comments

For want of a nail
the shoe was lost,

for want of a shoe
the horse was lost,

for want of a horse
the knight was lost,

for want of a knight
the battle was lost,

for want of a battle
the kingdom was lost.

So a kingdom was lost—
all for want of a nail.

JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA
The Nail

JLANail

z

Advertisements

We never left the mountain.
The light across our bare feet.
We must have been lost all
Our lives. Someone was calling.

It seems they have made a night
Only for us. A drift of precious
Animals gazing upon a marvelous
Throne. There were children
Weeping in a pale blue room.

Why is it things are able to be
Exactly like this?
I’ve seen a hand
Open and pearls as beautiful
As the world pour out across

The shore. Here even is the moon
I told you about when we left
The meadow this morning.
Everything dressed in birdsong.

D.R. Wagner

COURAGEOUS

I am a TOTALLY COURAGEOUS woman —
my HEART is bigger than the sky.

jb

heart.png

“Be ye therefore STRONG and courageous
for your work will be rewarded.”

2 Chronicles 15:7

Pomegrantes

pomegrantes

“The things you bring forth
are a paradise of pomegranates”

Songs of Songs 4:13

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Old woman,
I see your tapestries everywhere –
branches, railings, higher corners –
and there you are, waiting –
mending and tending – waiting,
like me, for something to come
(innocent and sustaining) –
meanwhile mending and tending,
spining out what I can
from what I have,
what I am.

Kathryn Hinds
Candle, Thread, & Flute (2013)

               for James Lee Jobe

Remember when we used to be the river?
It occurs to me that we are time.
Look what a fantastic place love finds
When we open ourselves above these empires
Of dust that once were sleep or weapons,
Ocean after ocean that we ran toward.

How could we know the way?
Look at the stars. What are they doing?
Our children rushing past in an insomnia
Our soul demands, so that we never lose
Our place in this river.  And then, suddenly,
They are gone. So much music they are.

We remain the river. Kind of  an ivory labyrinth
Borges spoke of when he was a river.
The images continue to occupy us
Even as we move through the great
Corridors of the heart. We find ourselves
Still breathing. We become an epitaph.

D.R. Wagner

Medusa’s Kitchen
(more poems by D.R. Wagner)

Screen Shot 2017-04-22 at 8.04.18 PM