Thank you, John, for this thread which I only now noticed. There were many poems I had not seen before which touched me to the core. Words do have power. Nearly all the moving and eloquent poems with which I am familiar have been offered already but I would like to add this one, also by Dana Gioia, for his dead son.
Prayer
Echo of the clocktower, footstep
in the alleyway, sweep
of the wind sifting the leaves
Jeweller of the spiderweb, connoisseur
of autumn's opulence, blade of lightning
harvesting the sky.
Keeper of the small gate, choreographer
of entrances and exits, midnight
whisper travelling the wires
Seducer, healer, deity or thief,
I will see you soon enough—
in the shadow of the rainfall,
in the brief violet darkening a sunset—
but until then I pray watch over him
as a mountain guards its covert ore
and the harsh falcon its flightless young.
|
Threaded Mode
