Pond Song 4.66
The origin is not a determinate being but rather gives them to be as being at all. G&B 283
buds and icicles in the trees__stiff grass shivers in the wind
down a hole he cut for water__Thoreau saw summer and heaven
the water is all out to sea__the pond sunk in dirty snow
ice on the path drums footfall__faint meanders mark the flow
Tu Fu’s snapped off lines__bottom stones draped in ice
shine in dim sunlight__unmoved unmoving toward equinox
6 thoughts on “buds and icicles in the trees”
Exquisitely lovely images, Tom
Thank you, Cynthia. This means a lot coming from you!
fine-tuned, syncopated rhythms of difference reveal our place in the between– between winter and summery heaven, ice and open sky, and the ice and the sky are radiant.
Right! And the difference in rhythm may well push people away which is what difference often does! There is an ethics to form! Your use of the word radiant reminds me of where Desmond says ‘Joy is at one with itself as radiance beyond self’ (God and the Between 290)
There is, indeed, something truly remarkable about all this being.