June 2015
Michael S. Glaser
msglaser@smcm.edu
msglaser@smcm.edu
Perhaps the greatest satisfactions I have derived from my life’s journey come from seeking to live mindfully and to be of service to the various communities in which I have lived and taught. I find much satisfaction and insight from reading and sharing the works of many modern and contemporary poets as well as from writing and sharing my own poetry. I am often filled with surprise and gratitude when I discover a line from the likes of John O’Donohue which points me toward “the harvest of years that await my hunger.” For more information please visit my website: www.michaelsglaser.com .
Zohar
I
Always the mystery—
A bird on the wing of a haiku,
a leaf-feather tumbling
into the sad face of Jesus.
What can we know for sure, anyway?
Our hearts pulse with amazement
as we gaze out from the prison of perspective
into a new dimension where we readily imagine
that each Rorschach we see
is what is true.
Do we define the forest?
The trees we walk among,
the hatchlings we gently encourage on . . . ?
We live in time’s ragged shadow
and, if we’re lucky, discover early
our destroyer
who greets us each moment
with a chance to test the air,
face into the wind and then . . . .
II
Bone and tail and feathered wings
are what we use to fly, but how do we
discover the hidden music of our hearts
or prepare ourselves for crossing over
where other birds will gather to acknowledge
the winged passage of our souls,
the songs we have sung,
the silent grace with which
we inhabited our space,
the elegant way
we now look skyward
and soar.
-first published in University of Baltimore - School of Communications Design - The Earth Project
I
Always the mystery—
A bird on the wing of a haiku,
a leaf-feather tumbling
into the sad face of Jesus.
What can we know for sure, anyway?
Our hearts pulse with amazement
as we gaze out from the prison of perspective
into a new dimension where we readily imagine
that each Rorschach we see
is what is true.
Do we define the forest?
The trees we walk among,
the hatchlings we gently encourage on . . . ?
We live in time’s ragged shadow
and, if we’re lucky, discover early
our destroyer
who greets us each moment
with a chance to test the air,
face into the wind and then . . . .
II
Bone and tail and feathered wings
are what we use to fly, but how do we
discover the hidden music of our hearts
or prepare ourselves for crossing over
where other birds will gather to acknowledge
the winged passage of our souls,
the songs we have sung,
the silent grace with which
we inhabited our space,
the elegant way
we now look skyward
and soar.
-first published in University of Baltimore - School of Communications Design - The Earth Project
©2015 Michael S. Glaser