Tag: heaven

  • Sunday Morning (VI, VII, VIII)

    VI
    In heaven in silence sit
    vast statues of stone
    on earth there is no quiet
    stone clouds break open
    what does the thunder say?
    Don’t sit under the apple tree
    fall is the mother of beauty
    with anyone else but she.
    She doesn’t like her picture
    taken nor to be in a poem
    does not care she is beauty
    but takes time with her hair
    avoids rules not her own.
    Heaven falls from the sky
    no heaven no earth below.

    VII
    Words are not a product
    of heaven but of earth.
    Sunday morning returns
    with a cup of French Roast
    under a grapevine wreath
    looped herbs and flowers.
    The coffee smells of earth
    the first gentle rain stirs
    petrichor into the air
    the dry grass two crows
    the cat on the dirt path.
    In heaven no senses no
    tenses no need no rain
    no sun no mud no crud.
    All sense is earthbound.

    VIII
    Sunday morning slows
    autumn leaves falling
    where she lives and walks
    in fine form and talks
    of the lovely noisy
    nights and dirty days
    of clean kitchens
    and open stays
    all means understood
    and confused all reason
    clear and absurd
    peaceful and happy
    stones that turn
    to stories and poems.
    How many choices in one
    heaven on one earth?