Saturday, May 5, 2012

NEMEROV 2014 #2


         So much I take for granted that is grand:
         The wonder and the marvel of all being—
         For instance, look at this now writing hand
         Busy in the sacred act of me-ing
         As I compose myself with every word,
         Each line revealing more of who I am,
         A grand and vital force that’s undeterred,
         Refusing to be summed in epigram.
         A sonnet at the least must celebrate
         My singularity, but also yours,
         For any consciousness that lies innate
         In atoms, molecules and cells assures
         Us that within the cosmic Mystery
         Resides the maker of all poetry.