I Am, Said He
I am the ground, the tree, and the sky, said he.
I am the beginning crumbling back to darkness.
I am the bed of love, the cureless body,
and the minutes you claim to own; I am,
said he, that side of truth you cannot see.
I am the hand that releases the burning bride,
and waits until the lights have laughed their last.
I am a poor peace, bent over the fallen years,
the unheard music hidden in your tears.
And who, you ask, am I? I am bone
of man and beast, cornstalk and leaf, the first
and last beating in the center of the sea.
James Scofield
30 Poems
published-Austin,TX
[after 30yrs of writing he kept these and destroyed the rest] |
