Summer on the Brink

Whether you’re one of 

Those ultra-fit  gentlemen 

Who are more like the hydrangea

Or day lily preferring to stay

In the background blooming

All summer long

Not the greatest blossom

Not the least

 

Or more like the hibiscus

You own two weeks

At the height of summer

In their entirety

Throwing all your glory

At the sun without

Rival in your peak

 

Or like the snow ball

Pointing longingly

Westward at sunset

So well intentioned

Summer brings us all

In various ways

Right to the brink

Photo by Carrie Welch

Magpie Bridge

There's a beautiful and mind-bending article in Sunday's New York Times about galactic walls.  Vast as the Milky Way is and hard as it is for us to comprehend space in such magnitude, it is really just a small bounded enclosure; and like a garden fence, it obscures us from the view of much vaster domains beyond.  If we could only peak over or around the Milky Way, we would glimpse all these other galaxies strung out like jewels on an endless necklace.  Here's a link to the article in case you haven't read it yet.

The article reminded me of the Chinese legend of the Cowherd and Weaver, which is basically the Chinese version of Pyramus and Thisbe set against the backdrop of the Milky Way.  When the Chinese looked skyward on a summer evening, they saw Vega and Altair positioned on either side of the great Milky Way as the celestial embodiment of these star-crossed lovers.  Magpie Bridge is how they described the band of darkness that spans the celestial river of light flowing between them.  Much as I admire the explanatory powers of modern astronomy, I find the ancient legend equally compelling in providing a way to comprehend the boundlessness of the summer sky at night.

As companion to the NY Times' article, here's my translation of Magpie Bridge, by the Song poet Qin Guan:

Magpie Bridge of the Immortals

A filigree of cloud drifts by chance

A star sends its regrets as it shoots across

The luminous flow of the Milky Way

In the vast skies of autumn

Cowherd and Weaver meet

For their brief rendezvous

Equal to ten thousand trysts

In the earthly domain below

Supple and yielding as water

The fleeting ecstasy of a dream

To stand and mutely gaze across

The span of Magpie Bridge

The route of eternal return

When two hearts unite forever

A day or night together is of no concern

鵲橋仙

纖雲弄巧

飛星傳恨

銀漢迢迢暗渡

金風玉露一相逢

便勝卻人間無數

柔情似水

佳期如夢

忍顧鵲橋歸路

兩情若是久長時

又豈在朝朝暮暮

  

A Dream of Death

Death comes to me in the guise

Of an old friend who long ago

Traveled beyond but now

Has returned seeking

A means of ingress

It's his apartment really

That we have barricaded

Ourselves inside

Plushly furnished yet

Fearfully we hide

By the service entrance

By what right I wonder

Having renounced

Our friendship besides

Such intimacy we can't abide

So it is we have drawn  

These false boundary lines 

Hoping to segregate

Those of us still clinging to life

From all those who have died

First Bird of Morning

As if back from the dead
The first bird of morning
Sings its song sweetly
One voice to carry us all
Though long before dawn
And yet night has been
Banished completely

Oh Yes ( in reply to Robert Creeley)

If you sit long enough
You will come to it
And when you get there
They will give you a place to sit
Except you'll be sitting already
And what you'll really want
Is to unbend your knees
And rise up in song
And then you may see no difference
Between arrival and moving along

A Precondition of Life

A crack in the roadway

Through which a dream

Seeps into broad daylight

Imagination is nothing

More or less than

A precondition of life

Photo by Marissa Bridge

Poem for Heraclitus

No you never do step

Into the same river twice

But then again you never

Step out of it either
As we remain unsure

Where the shoreline lies

What's real and what's dream

Stasis and change being  

But two ways to describe
How we find ourselves amidst 

The same ever swirling stream

While Charon stands ready with

His ferry awaiting the moment

We become submerged