Well that was written I guess when I was about 16
or 20 somewhere along in there.
And I still subscribe to the lightened scene and the unheard
song.
On the other hand, one time I tried
to figure out what I was doing or what was happening to me.
And this will explain it.
"Hardening into Print."
That is how does a poem get to express anything that is so
intangible as a poetic feeling.
To catch the meaning out of the air
yet have it inviolably there.
Life, I mean.
The glimpse of power, incomparable times
of total splendor, the sudden exaltations.
Flash of a thrush, a rush of gold and insight
to be caught up in titanic light as if one
saw into the depths of things yet
averts the eye to try yet furtherer mysteries.
It is into this rich reservoir of knowing and unknowing
I flash and shake high lightning spears of life
in the long combats of mortals strife.
Thrush song piercing human ills with rigor and wrench so deep.
This glimpse is as of an immaculate joy
heart suffers for and wishes to keep.