'No man can create as did Shakespeare, Homer, Sophocles who did not believe with all his blood and nerve that man's soul is immortal.'
W.B.
Joy is a way of looking at
you & me & this & that,
and all things that may
oh - heaven knows - cause us grief
...
Down from the trees, a Kookaburra,
tempted by the throwdown of meat, descends,
hops, chuckles and gobbles; and bounces back.
...
My memories are yesterday in the fern place
under the great convent house at Clermont,
going out for the last time from the lash
and curse of nuns. Unrehearsed, you come to me
...
'And there were in the same country shepherds watching and keeping the night watch over their flock.' (Luke 2: 8
On the icy dark, the ghostly shape of shepherds:
and the sheep like clumps of rock on the sea's shore
...
Did I ask for this? I who, before we met,
scratched the surface and sowed the weeds of my time.
What charms, what magic, what enchantment did you have?
You with the tang of fruit - sweet-half-ripe -
...