From 'Smiling Stories Of Triumph': a collection of poetry by leere NOW available at Xlibris Publishing and Amazon

 

 

leere : An Introduction

 

Pass through one mind field of activity

To another

Beyond those that surface

Out of history, pleasure and pain

Appetite

The spoken and emotive domain

The professional, our personal realm…

To that single point which gives out rest

Like the awaiting forest of our writers great

To where hardly a breath stirs before us

Except the source of ourselves

Beside a heaven

And in ‘the let go’ we then allow in

The real praise of Unity

And we tiptoe to new encounter

With a precision that tenderly helps

To carry us into the world stronger again

 

Patience

 

It's easily done

Confusing steps

And losing sight

Of paths

Emerging only in the general direction

Of agitation...

With a little less

Angst about the problem

And a fair minded

Attitude as to who we are

Amidst this imperfection and this strife...

We can settle

In that land of reverence for self

Open the door on the house of scope

And sit comfortably

In the chair of patience.

 

 

Roles

 

The part can be defined by a chance encounter

The part can be a prince, or one of a father

The part can be played without the actor even knowing

As comedy, or tragedy, as that part of you which is growing

The role is forever hard graft

The role may take you right back

To a child before the task

What role do you play now, I ask?

It’s a softer journey perhaps to empty out

The various parts we do play, many in doubt

About their longevity, their conviction

Their truth and timing, their falsehoods, mere fiction?

The parts we play

Behind laughs and smiles

Grimaces

Gone in a flash

The roles we assign ourselves

Can end up asking us

Where did you actually go?

Easter Bridge (for Brian)

Some remnants of the stray bridge
Could be traced up stream
Where the sunlit course winds and twists its way
And waters expanse pushes hard against the bank
Yet, presently, remnants are of little use

So…we size and we scrape the bed
Where wood may lie to ground for years ahead
And the pieces settle snugly into the sunken soil
Two giant-like oars resting above water

You are bold - measured - masterful 
Working back from vision to imprint
Every placing, each positioning, a secure home
A stamp of their origin

As fixed as goodness, no mood can shift us
From our relational work

I try kneading cake-like concrete mix
Final texture, the space and the hold
Revealed with ….true Patience
The wise man’s closest friend, I fear!

Supportive and inseparable
Beams and Bridge lock tight 
Steering us to safety, from the fall
Into the rapid flow of circumstance

Joke about the ballast, me surfacing late
And about you being right all along, 
This is to be our Easter crossing 
The parable for the children who visit in Spring
For whom remnants are of little use

As man-made as anything man-made
In its Father-like shape
The bridge rests just a single step away from its source.

 

 

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