Spring / R.

Spring

Infant Spirit of the Spring!
On thy fresh-plumed pinion, bring
Snow-drops like thy stainless brow —
Violet, primrose — cull them now,
With the cup of daffodil,
Which the fairies love to fill,
Ere each moon dance they renew,
With the fragrant honey dew;
Bring them, Spirit! — bring them hither
Ere the wind have time to wither;
Or the sun to steal their dyes,
To paint, at eve, the western skies,
Bring them for the wreath of one —
Fairest, best, that Time hath known.

Infant Spirit! dreams have told
Of thy golden hours of old,
When the amaranth was flung
O'er creation bright and young;
When the wind had sweeter sound
Than holiest lute-string since hath found;

When the sigh of angels sent
Fragrance through the firmament:
Then thy glorious gifts were shed
O'er full many a virgin head:
Of those forms of beauty, none
Gladden now this earth, save one!
Hither, then, thy blossoms bring,
Infant Spirit of the Spring!

~~
R. (fl. 1837)
from Friendship's Offering, 1837

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

This poem has sometimes been attributed to John Ruskin (1819-1900). However, E.T. Cook and Alexander Wedderburn write in the introduction to volume II (Poems) of  The Works of John Ruskin (London: George Allen, 1903, xxxvii):
"Owing to the fact that Ruskin's early contributions to periodical literature were not signed with his name, but only with his initials, pieces written by other persons are sometimes attributed to him. In an American edition of his poems a piece entitled "Spring," and beginning "Infant spirit of the Spring," is included. It appeared in Friendship's Offering for 1837, pp. 383-384, where it is signed "R". Ruskin, however, stated that he certainly did not write it."
https://archive.org/details/worksofjohnruski02rusk/page/n45

Snowstorm in December / Ilya Shambat

Snowstorm in December

Snowstorm on winter evening
Air full of light and snow
Mind feels as though it's dreaming
As ground reclines below

Tree branches just like rivers
From their eternal source
Leading through air that shivers
Into the sea of earth

Branches overlaid with snow –
Fairy tales, like Renoir's
Paintings – together flow –
Past flakes that shine like stars!

Snow flakes here fly illumined
With light from a streetlamp
While from the sky exhuming
Winter night's cold and damp

As it falls on the ground
Under the evening sky
Makes bed of fluff and down
Where the trees' shadows lie.

Snow flakes on a December
In their chaotic flight
Make an orchestral chamber
Where music of the night

Resonates true and clear
And bursts into a song
Where passion, hope and fear
Carry the heart along:

Carry, to truths revealing!
Carry, to joys sublime!
Carry each Thought and Feeling
Into the heart of Time

And in eternal Now
In which resides true Peace
Make Essence merge with Tao
And bring eternal Bliss.

Snow, the exalted water!
Substance of life on high!
Earth's truth and heaven's daughter!
When brought into the sky

Turns into perfect matter
Each one unique, yet all
Crystalline, and they scatter
Everywhere as they fall!

Give us the truth of heaven,
Water congealed in height!
Take us to where you've traveled
On this December night –

Give us what you have mastered –
Place where the truth of life
Turns into alabaster
Crystals! To us arrive,

Each one unique, each real –
Perfect by its own code –
Soulful, incorporeal –
From its sublime abode

Falling upon the ground
And swirling on its course –
Carry your truths profound
And in them bathe the earth.

Water to heights exalted –
The place all poets seek –
Turns into truth embodied –
Each perfect and unique

Each beautiful and tender
And each reflecting light
Each to completeness rendered
And in it bathing Night

As snowflakes shimmer dancing
In chilly winter air
Heaven in them romances
Earth away from despair:

Snowflakes dress trees with beauty
And carpet breathing earth
Onto which is exuded
Truth of the soul's rebirth:

Water reaches the clouds
And there becomes attained,
And then falls on the ground
As snowflakes or as rain

To hide it in the cold
Or feed it in the heat
And the life's truth enfold
In rain, snow, ice and sleet.

Through every time and season
Through every night and day
Passion combined with reason,
Purpose combined with play –

Makes the accomplished matter
Which with the truth of soul –
The Noumenal unfettered
From the Phenomenal –

Brings the embodied splendor
And feeds what may exist
That on the earth is rendered
This divine painter's feast.

Total as life is total,
And unique, one and all –
Both anecdotal
And experimental –

Subjective and objective
Yin and yang, age and youth,
Passive and overactive
Make manifest the truth!

All elements combining
Makes what did not exist
Dualities refining
Where they like gene strands twist

Until they are most splendid
And then they all combine –
Finest and most candid –
Into the truth divine.

There passion turns to matter
And becomes absolute
There preconceptions shatter
And truths untruths refute

There Life strives for existence
Amid the strains of Time
There Seed strives through resistance –
There all becomes sublime!

There water reaches air:
There all is true and wise
There is true beauty there –
There is no room for lies!

There soul becomes embodied
And then the ground it flails
As though overloaded –
Which its new task entails –

Here to become its most – and
All of its gifts impart:
Unique and universal
In body, mind, and heart!

Upon an earth-shaped canvas
Painting sublime designs
In world we have, that has us,
Making the most of time:

That, being made of water,
And crafted out of ice,
Makes of the time's iota
What will transcend all times:

There, to complete life's substance!
In snow or in rain
And as the snow flake dances -
There, let the soul remain

To consummate the coming
And inspire yet-to-be
And, when the rain comes drumming,
Then let the winter flee!

Then let the sun come beaming!
Then let the life return!
And until then, be dreaming
During this winter storm!

Snowstorm on winter evening!
Both journey and the goal!
Both giving and receiving!
In you, the human soul!

~~
Ilya Shambat, 2005
from Intricate Fire, 2005

[All rights reserved - Used with permission]

Ilya Shambat biography
Poems by Ilya Shambat

The Song of the Ungirt Runners / Charles Hamilton Sorley

The Song of the Ungirt Runners

We swing ungirded hips,
And lightened are our eyes,
The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
We know not whom we trust
Nor whitherward we fare,
But we run because we must
Through the great wide air.

The waters of the seas
Are troubled as by storm.
The tempest strips the trees
And does not leave them warm.
Does the tearing tempest pause?
Do the tree-tops ask it why?
So we run without a cause
'Neath the big bare sky.

The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize,
But the storm the water whips
And the wave howls to the skies.
The winds arise and strike it
And scatter it like sand,
And we run because we like it
Through the broad bright land.

~~
Charles Hamilton Sorley (1895-1915)
from Marlborough, and other poems, 1916

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Charles Hamilton Sorley biography

The Weary Man / Crystal Matteau

 
The Weary Man

While beggars grieve you rise,
discarding anew their cries.
Caring only for your name,
renouncing compassion for fame.

Oppressing indifferent minds,
captured by whitewashed binds.
While fading hearts reminisce,
turn your eyes away from this.

Forsaking liberty unaware,
of burdens destiny may bare.
Avert your arctic gaze once more,
you disregard and ignore.

Stay your self-righteous plea,
pompous in privileged glee.
You enslave the defiant again,
casting aside the weary man.

~~

Crystal Matteau 

Massachusetts, U.S.A.

Live, Write, Love:

http://crystalmatteau.blogspot.com/

[All rights reserved by the author - Used with permission]