Details |
Steven Federle Poem
“Memory”
sometimes in mass
as sacred songs
wash over me like rain,
I break free
and drift
into memory,
and again you rise,
your tears flow
as tears fill my eyes,
your dying breath
whispering
good bye;
after so many years,
the knife still cuts
and again, and
again
I cry.
(20 May 2015)
Copyright © Steven Federle | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Steven Federle Poem
In order to know and love God as He is, we must have God dwelling in us in a new way, not only in His creative power but in His mercy. Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation.
Nothing I could do
would ever be enough
to make the dead-wood
live. Though the wind
and rain sever bright leaves,
tender blossoms from
the cherry tree, and the
birds themselves fly
from my anger,
I know
I could never
make it right,
though with tears I flood,
nourish with a
broken heart’s blood
I am powerless.
Yet still these bruised stems,
thicken and split
to bud, spill green life,
fill the earth
with mercy
and love.
Copyright © Steven Federle | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Steven Federle Poem
The gym was dim.
Red and white balloons
glittered in the dusk
while flashing lights writhed
on the dark floor
like enchanted water-snakes
gliding through scented fog.
This was a celebration dance!
Eighth grade done at last,
they stepped, hesitant, into the roiling
teen-age sea,their synchronous, bobbing heads
attuned to the be-bop rhythms of the city (not their city),
and the lusty calls of the hood (not their hood).
Smooth gym walls echoed the dj's mechanical angst
endless, relentless beats, the racing heart of the machine,
artificial sighs, nano-seconds long and gigabytes wide.
The boys, spinning on heads and leaping from hands and
flailing legs, showed an athleticism
never seen in PE,
while the girls huddled in their own dark corner
and planned their move;
their fashion walk,
legs strutting ahead
of swaying hips,
heels clicking the hard, dark floor,
as they stalked right up to the foul line
where boys were spinning and leaping
through throbbing lights
to the tribal, primal beat.
So the girls turned,
hips flung in defiance,
and sashayed back to the wall,
staring hard at the gaping boys
over their swaying shoulders.
(28 May 2009)
Copyright © Steven Federle | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Steven Federle Poem
When you left us
I saw how the clouds parted,
rent curtains,
as you cleared earth’s
drossy smear,
and passed into a heaven
bright beyond
my wildest imagining.
Bereft, fearful, we
shut tight the door
against wolves’ howling
and waited for you
to keep your promise.
At first it was a whisper,
the sea-ward wind
prying loose our
weak walls,
but soon the song rose, until
its power overwhelmed us
with chords of faith,
and, afire at last,
we spoke!
Copyright © Steven Federle | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Steven Federle Poem
The gym was dim.
Red and white balloons
glittered in the dusk
while flashing lights writhed
on the dark floor
like enchanted water-snakes
gliding through scented fog.
This was a celebration dance!
Eighth grade done at last,
they stepped, hesitant, into the roiling
teen-age sea,their synchronous, bobbing heads
attuned to the be-bop rhythms of the city (not their city),
and the lusty calls of the hood (not their hood).
Smooth gym walls echoed the dj's mechanical angst
endless, relentless beats, the racing heart of the machine,
artificial sighs, nano-seconds long and gigabytes wide.
The boys, spinning on heads and leaping from hands and
flailing legs, showed an athleticism
never seen in PE,
while the girls huddled in their own dark corner
and planned their move;
their fashion walk,
legs strutting ahead
of swaying hips,
heels clicking the hard, dark floor,
as they stalked right up to the foul line
where boys were spinning and leaping
through throbbing lights
to the tribal, primal beat.
So the girls turned,
hips flung in defiance,
and sashayed back to the wall,
staring hard at the gaping boys
over their swaying shoulders.
Copyright © Steven Federle | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Steven Federle Poem
“In an age where there is much talk about ‘being yourself,’ I reserve to myself the right to forget about being myself.” Thomas Merton
When I look into the mirror
I see the perfect mime,
moving left or right, mimicing
my vanity as I comb thinning hair,
check wrinkled skin for new blemish,
try figure out who I am;
but when I look into your eyes
I see long drives, mountain roads
rising to clouds, ocean mist
washing clean the highest pines
as the eastern sky
grows bright with
morning.
Your eyes
enfold me.
Like the rising sun,
your love renews
my aging day.
Copyright © Steven Federle | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Steven Federle Poem
The hot, autumn sun
spills effulgent;
dark branches, roused,
glow lustrous as blue day.
Burgeoning trees
cling to verdant leaves
denying impending
vermillion days.
Summer's love abides,
warming laggard blooms
under the flowing fern.
Summer will stay for now;
Winter patiently waits
to renew the ripe world.
Copyright © Steven Federle | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Steven Federle Poem
“It is that life itself, fully awake, fully active,
fully aware that it is alive. It is spiritual wonder.”
Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation
+++++++++++++++
Dark rain penetrates
tender leaves, swells spirits, sparks
dormant roots to life.
Like a god, Your star
ascends; with wonder and grace
shines Your mighty face!
Copyright © Steven Federle | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Steven Federle Poem
Our apple tree is exuberant tonight,
its white blossoms flare within emerald shades
of our big cottonwoods,
and the flashing red finch descends
busy among the bursting white flames,
when suddenly, by a small boy enraptured,
it poses as the guardian halcyon.
Love in April is like this,
measured in flashes
of red wings in trees
and scored in lines of
molten sunlight, pouring
through our knotty fence
into the silky darkness
of our star drenched night
Copyright © Steven Federle | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Steven Federle Poem
Evening star rising
into day’s fading sky,
alone, serene,
and wondrously bright,
surpassing dark hills
to cerulean night.
Copyright © Steven Federle | Year Posted 2015
|