Good

I am not a good poet. For, I am neither purely good, nor purely poetic. However, I am a man, who on occasion, is given to a passion for listening to my heart speaking in unison with the heart of the universe. In this auscultative moment I find a language beyond understanding; I am moved to attempt translation. Far too often I have said, No. Walking away to lay in a bed of fragrant flowers. It is there, in the scented sublimity, basking, I found how purely good is the light. Many a time, bathing in the warmth, I have laid there supine until dark. On very few occasions, still and quiet, I have remained all through the dark of night, to listen, to wait, for the sun's return. It is then, in the departing dark, that I say, Yes. In the yes, the innate quality of light returning, I find glowing fragments of thought becoming good, bearing from the heart. These, borne in the mixture of light & dark, are the only portions of poetic purity I shall ever find good words to give to. Still, I am not a good poet. Though occasionally just a few words, pure by grace, find their way into my poems. Though it is not of me, perhaps it does come from the Poetry at work within, slowly becoming good after all. 'No one is good but God alone.' - Mark 10: 18