A rarity in three by 3 is a posting of only new poems. “Soul Searching’s Right of Way”, Scruples #17, “The Advent of Spring” were written between January and May 2020. They’re also posted in the order written.
Soul Searching’s Right of Way
So long as this trail wends
over hills, down dales,
lies steeped in sunlight, babbled
to by a passing brook—
on those grounds we spend a summer
day, hour after hour,
until dusk comes, and with it
a trail lurking in the dark…
Summer nights are heavenly sent—
when the moon beams,
lone stars cluster together.
In time, shadows show up,
some standing, others on the go—
between then and dawn
they appear everywhere, without
crossing our path.
Scruples
17
His eminence, hours into a tedious
speech about theology
in everyday space and time,
reaches a mute point.
Say no more, Aquinas, listen as heaven
revels, high strung harps pair
with dancing angels, corpus diem,
around the head of a pin…
To tell the truth, you’ve shown
they can in so many words.
Still riddled with doubt
is the nature of their gender,
be it male, female, or neither?
The Advent of Spring
Before sunrise many will congregate
around the church in utter silence,
all eyes uplifted, towards the steeple—
clerks, merchants, butchers, bakers
mingle with bankers and lawyers,
the mayor amongst them, standing alone.
The time of their lives is about to change—
now that winter’s waned spring
should be promising, a warm welcome
for kindred spirits who kept out
of harm’s way by staying indoors.
And so, as the town stirs, windows
open, streets become walkable,
fountains bloom in every plaza.
The vigil lasts until first light.
By then bells ring free of the icy grip
that had stilled their tongues.
Crystal clear they chime, a blessing
upon those also beholden
to the season’s better nature.
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