I can’t sleep, and there’s one bright star in the east, low on the horizon. I think about how long that light has taken to reach the earth, and I’m wondering, that star over Bethlehem, how far ahead was it planned? Maybe right back at the very beginning of creation, so it would shine there, above the earth, at the right time.

but thou
O Bethlehem Ephrathah
a chosen city

Tarantula nebula

(Photo NASA Creative commons)


to be a child again
with a child’s magic view
the little things of life
still touch my heart anew

the smallest moth
the tallest blade of grass
become an ancient world
where legends come to pass

what can outshine
the sunlight on the leaves
that sets the deepest shadows
to dancing in the breeze

(click on any photo for more detail)


My sonnet for Poetry 201

I see the earth, its virgin glory spent
the forests dead, the mountains torn and rent
by conflict, and the hatred of the dead
who lie, old bones, beneath a lowering sky.
Gone now the tread of armies marching past
and sound of words long said, that never last.

But then, I look again, and hope revives
there are still left good men beneath earth’s skies
and women too, who seek to find a way
to bring back love, and let the children play
add nurture to the earth, throw out the dross
and help us to avert that last cruel loss.

I pray to God that we will find the right
before the world sleeps in eternal night.

last sunset