Good Poems

Time slipping away . . .

I have been reading Garrison Keillor’s Good Poems. I keep returning to a poem by Kenneth Rexroth (1905–1982), a much-married poet, essayist, and devotee of Asian poetry. Three of his poems are featured in Good Poems.

Rexroth was an interesting and brilliant individual. Mostly self-taught in all areas, he taught himself several languages and later translated a volume of Asian poetry. His poetry spanned 60 years, and many were written about love, sensuality, the supernatural, and the seasons. He was a radical thinker and prominent political activist who considered himself a rascal. His poem “Another Spring” is posted below for your enjoyment.

Another Spring

The seasons revolve and the years change
With no assistance or supervision.
The moon, without taking thought,
Moves in its cycle, full, crescent, and full.
 
The white moon enters the heart of the river;
The air is drugged with azalea blossoms;
Deep in the night a pine cone falls;
Our campfire dies out in the empty mountains.
 
The sharp stars flicker in the tremulous branches;
The lake is black, bottomless in the crystalline night;
High in the sky the Northern Crown
Is cut in half by the dim summit of a snow peak.
 
O heart, heart, so singularly
Intransigent and corruptible,
Here we lie entranced by the starlit water,
And moments that should each last forever
 
Slide unconsciously by us like water.

I think I can smell azalea blossoms—I see the stars and feel time slipping away. . . .

By Gael Stuart
The Silver Sage Blog