Morning Poem, December 7, 2017


Image result for orion





In winter I can see Orion through my window

There in the southwest sky before dawn

He stands above Mrs. Finn’s great oak

His hounds knee deep in the naked, reaching fingers of the tree


The ancients saw the sky as a mystery

To them it held portents, they saw combinations of stars

As held together, like the parts of a body

And imagined the work and the persons of gods and titans

All governing the affairs of men


God’s poet wrote this:

“The heavens declare the glory of God

And the firmament sheweth His handiwork”

But what about Mrs. Finn’s oak tree?


In this frame of mine, in this hour of dark drama

Of silent, ubiquitous speech


The psalmist said of the stars:

“Day unto day uttereth speech

And night unto night sheweth knowledge

There is no speech or language

Where their voice is not heard”


What about Mrs. Finn’s tree

On which the giant, bright hunter now strides?

Is the earth now connected to the cosmic drama?

To the unknowable; those things that have astonished men

And set them dreaming?


Isaiah told that the trees shall clap their hands

And Paul that all of creation groans

With the hope of a new world


copyright 2017

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1 Response to Morning Poem, December 7, 2017

  1. Pingback: Morning Poem, December 7, 2017 | Shelton College Quarterly

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