Also, in Daitokuji which is this whole compound of where
Ryoko-in is, I wrote a series of love poems
called "Love's Progress."
These poems fell into a trilogy.
When I am moving a poem and from a feeling into the form
it will be, the poem says to me what it has to do.
All poets know that.
And this came out--
this series of poems on "Love's Progress" in trilogies.
They were in groups of three.
I won't read them all.
But I will read some from each trilogy.
And I will read one trilogy complete
so will you see how they flow.
Now the first trilogy is "The Wish."
And I'll read the first one of "The Wish."
"Yesterday, Homer said, Dear Ruth, one rosy fingered dawn
from Greece is yours.
My gift, your poet wreath.
Take it.
Our restless sun's release out of unfleeting time,
light rare unconquerable.
I sang this sun intrinsic and long templed air revels in love
and the expression, epic poet, his face gains
is your sun's moment.
Award me this."
That was three of "The Wish."
Then we come to "The Wind."
I will read this entire trilogy which is also
one of Kobori-san's favorites.
"Which came first-- the key or the lock, love or desire,
in or out, enclose me, incline me, call,
mock, question quickly.
Ask me to doubt.
I doubt, therefore I am.
We are.
I doubt the landscape.
And it leaps.
It is.
Doubt-- great smile of Descartes pleasures the question.
Who can keep everything everything unproved?
Doubt-- my lock is a key to truth.
Second.
Doubt as a key, locks truth.
Unlocks mind pigeons to refute, regain,
fly through visions, nest on sweet rocks,
be clouds for morning, peck at pain.
Truth locked is truth.
Unlocked is love.
Watch proverbs falling about us, gold red autumn
leaves, an above whisper, are we impervious?
We are gold red proverbs falling.
We are love's leaves all ground grazing.
Leaves, wind torn, sun smoothed in passage,
hushed from tree speech, brown on the ground, sigh
against each other, no rage, no doubt in changing.
What is found, unfound, felt or unfelt blows by.
Winds rise.
The air responds in song.
There is no ground without a sky, no sky that
does not have a song.
Softly desire, love's wind word, stirs the laid leaves,
is held and heard."
I'll read you the third one of the next trilogy which
is "The Wait."
"Love mantle me with snow with floods icicle crusted,
white in steep stark ravines.
My wishes like buds need winter's cool and thornless
sleep.
Your face not seen is not one face.
Your hero, one night's firefly, wanders the dark.
Love every place is yours.
Why ask then, where am I?
Love mantle me with snow.
I'll hear your phoenix wings when you draw near."
I'll read the third of "Love Arriving."
"Touch me.
The night is luminous.
Your hands steal the wind.
Steal my breath with your breath.
Steal my loneliness, bury it star deep until death.
Does a moon label the sky, love, or is the sky your arms?
A bird startled, soars in air, pearl and mauve.
Is it my heart?
I have not stirred.
Words, swans on silence, glint, glide, brush.
Touch me again.
I am love hushed."
I will read one of "Love Here"'s trilogy.
"Eternity is too private.
May I kiss you, lie close?
Oh, yes, my pillow pilot spire gate.
All love is true love as this is.
All love is great love.
Kind, no fringe on living.
Dear cyclonic heart flesh by my flesh,
firm lips, impinge eternity, image my part,
close fisted customable days fade, fail.
You enslave them, love.
Stay.
Love is not one, is two, is we, alive now.
Now, not then or soon.
Close as waking in privacy.
Wide, wit in its cosmic cocoon.
Love whispers, risk me, name me must.
Carry me, count me advisable.
Like banner and breeze, we adjust, adjoin.
Flair the invisible.
Air needs its flags to move believed.
Love without lovers cannot breathe.
"The doubt" and "The movement."
I'll read the third of "The movement."
"How can I claim you, love?
You fly word above word into strange woods.
Query quicker than the hawk's eye,
looming in loops of likelihoods.
Bounding through lillied moments, moth, dove, maze
muted wind whispered want.
How can I question when you're off?
Ways of being itinerant.
Yet when you light, kiss me, confide,
foreverness is at my side."
And the final one of "second wind."
"Love strength like the tiger's smile,
springs from an invisible impetuous proud wind
flipped guile.
Lightning by name, yet lily still.
In autumn falls what is to fall.
The plum tree's promise, purpled plums.
Rain shadows sighing leaves and all things sun heavy.
Why ask what comes?
Love's legend moves with clouds.
Leaves vows.
What was not there cannot fall now."