ECSTASY

  I am, I guess, a transcendentalist
  And may have been since reading Emerson
  And in my freshman year at Yale being blissed
  By something mystical not yet undone.

  Though long since faded in intensity,
  That ecstasy still echoes in my mind,
  Enthusing me with a propensity
  To seek the source by which we are designed.

  “One Mind” some name it now, as well as “Source,”
  Depersonalizing our traditional “God,”
  Which nonetheless designs the cosmic course,
  If not exactly ruling with a rod.

       These days I feel it most when writing verse,
       Inspired by a medium that’s terse.

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BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

 Beyond what any other creature knows,
 We human beings imagine and suppose,
 For we can wonder, ponder and surmise,
 And, in rare instances, we might grow wise.

 Such sapience is promised in our name
 Though all too few arrive at such acclaim—
 Yet anyone may set it as a goal,
 Achieving which amounts to growing whole.

 Perhaps, though, such an end should not be sought,
 For even if such wisdom could be taught,
 Would not that mean the human journey’s done
 With our achieving lasting benison?

      No, it’s drama that we thrive on in this life:
      Conflict and competition, stress and strife.

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THANKSGIVING

    Give thanks for living in this universe
    And thanks for knowing what a miracle
    Life is on Earth, a planet that can nurse
    And nurture life, both plant and animal.

    But whom are we to thank for all of this
    Good orderly direction cosmically,
    That everything’s not merely hit-or-miss
    But manifests a purpose we can see?

    Good Orderly Direction’s acronym
    Is GOD, which we personify to name
    Someone to praise, giving all thanks to Him—
    That Source from which the universe once came.

         The force that through the green fuse flows
         Is that from which our Universe arose.

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A PAPAL MANDATE

 “Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurl’d;
 The glory, jest and riddle of the world”:
 So Alexander Pope once summed us up,
 And any thinking person would say, “Yup,
 He’s nailed us there, nor have we learned since then
 To act more sanely and behave like men
 Not children with no sense of consequence:
 Bone headed, narrow minded, dumb and dense.
 But now, so much more powerful, we must
 At last outgrow our envy, pride and lust,
 And all the rest of our inherent errors
 Endangering confused, wayward wayfarers.
 Perhaps with this analysis by Pope
 We’ll rectify our ways—our only hope.

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THE MAKER

     Eyes closed, the poet stares into the void,
     The unformed sea of roiling consciousness
     Where everything potential is deployed,
     While seeking some coherence in this mess,
     For something out of nothing may appear
     Amazingly, which he, alert, might see,
     The notion or the image growing clear
     As words give birth to its reality.
     Just as, somehow, mentality arose
     From energy and matter still inchoate,
     Likewise an unshaped composition grows
     Within the consciousness of a blessed poet.
          Therefore he roams and ranges in his mind,
          Uncertain but still sure of what he’ll find.

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CRAFT WORK

A young boy from the neighborhood came by
To sell hand-crafted baubles that he’d made,
Woven from plastic threads—a kid not shy
To tout the traits of what he had in trade:

How this one would hold keys, that be a ring,
Another might a nifty bracelet make—
“See how it stretches on elastic string!
It’s guaranteed to widen but won’t break.”

I bought a couple do-dads for a buck,
Not yet remembering when I’d done the same
Thing as a boy, going door to door with pluck:
Touting hand-woven pot-holders was my game.

     These days it’s verse I weave from sundry sounds.
     Careful to keep my meters within bounds.

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HOMO SAPIENS SAPIENS

     When we grow wise, then we shall realize
     That double sapience in our own name
     By following what reasoning best applies
     To justify the merits of our claim,

     And more than simply knowing that we know,
     We’ll do those deeds that circumspection leads
     Us to perform that set all hearts aglow
     Because they satisfy our truest needs.

     Thus wisdom’s that potentiality
     Inherent in the nature of our kind
     Which manifests its full reality
     When wit and will and heart are well aligned.

          Before too late, I trust we’ll recognize
          That our true destiny is growing wise.

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