Like clockwork
they come back
year after year.
Thousands of them.
We go out to look
at them and walk
among them and
take in their smell.
It must be
the season of renewal.
Like shaking off
a long winter's night.
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About me
- HK Stewart
- I grew up in Christian fundamentalism, went to hell, came back, became a Presbyterian then a Buddhist Presbyterian, and now I'm a profane Presbyterian Zen Taoist -- not that I'm into labels or anything. Here's what I've learned so far: The more you know, the more you know you don't know.
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Easter 2013
No matter what is said, we worship science.
In this age of cause and effect, hard knocks
Certify that walls are real, and no fragrance
From wishful thinking reverses hemlocks.
Though saxifrage cracks cement like eggshells,
No one flower is like any other,
Nor animal, whose coffins are seashells
Collected as proof of what they’ve suffered.
Unique upon this spinning rock, we stare
At burning planets around the sun.
We need to recognize just who we are,
That once and for all is for everyone.
Not to see the newness of things is blind
Indifference to every new kind.
[Disposable Sonnet March 31, 2013]
Dr. Mike
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