No man was ever yet a great poet,
Without being at the same time a profound philosopher.
For poetry is the blossom and the fragrance
Of all human knowledge,
Human thoughts, human passions, emotions, language. "
Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
"You ask me why I dwell in the green mountain;
I smile and make no reply for my heart is free of care.
As the peach-blossom flows down stream
and is gone into the unknown,
I have a world apart that is not among men."
- Li Po 701 - 762
Roads not yet glistening, rain slight,
Broken clouds darken after thinning away.
Where they drift, purple cliffs blacken.
And beyond -- white birds blaze in flight.
Sounds of cold-river rain grown familiar,
Autumn sun casts moist shadows. Below
Our brushwood gate, out to dry at the village
Mill: hulled rice, half-wet and fragrant
by Tu Fu 712 - 770
This is a piece I wrote and finished recently. If anyone read in earlier poetry entries, what I wrote about the Eagles in B.C. and the Hancock Wildlife Channel. Then you will know what this poem is about.
I’m Missing You
Empty nest! oh empty nest!
Nest now so full, of nothingness.
Yet how such magic do you still hold.
To capture Worldwide - so many hearts.
For as if in answer to a memory, so dear -
Eaglet swoops in, scattering my concentration.
Pen in hand, I pause to wipe a happy tear -
For bringing again - that excitement sensation!
Oh precious nest, woven with dreams,
Once more I close my eyes and see -
The parents at home with eaglets two!
Everlasting memories, safe in that Tree.
Eric Valentine March 5/07©