on leaves
and flowers
and trees
BY RALPH WRIGHT O.S.B.
Copyright 2011 Father Ralph Wright, O.S.B.,
All rights reserved.
Published in eBook format by Monograph Publishing
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Cover Design By William E. Mathis
© 2011 William E. Mathis, All Rights Reserved
ISBN-13:978-0-9840117-5-9
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
A WAVE
a wave
of thanksgiving
like tear gas
hits me:
God hides
so completely
so discreetly
my senses
geigercount
his glory
in the rose
faith reaches
beyond
where all the light
of all the galaxies
is but a candle
so discreetly
so completely
thank you
A YOUNG WILLOW FOUNTAIN OF ICE
a young willow fountain of ice
this morning after Matins
against a rose January sky —
a masterpiece of curves in crystal
of haunting mauve beauty
blending the essentially gentle
giving receiving
circle of compassion
with the stark straight brittle
(shortest distance between two points)
battle line of fragile ultimata —
the Yes or No intransigence,
and transience,
of ice
angry impatience at the evil
in every heart except our own
that leaves a residue of empty boots
protruding from the enfolding snow
ABOVE MY BED
above my bed
hang three paintings
of mountain flowers
in yellow and red
with dark green leaves
reflected
in the glass
that frames them
are the trees
outside the window
dark branches
untouched by dawn light
way back
behind the trees
the sky is blue
behind the mountains
and the sun
crawls
down the mountainside
devouring like lava
the remnants of the night
AFRICAN VIOLET
kept by every kind of shade
from seeing
face to face
your golden Maker,
dreaming of being
back in the permanent gloom
of Jungle Giants,
you peer from regal purple
like the moon at midnight
and reach
—on tiptoe—
out for the kiss of sunlight
AS LIGHT WITHDRAWS
Over the snow
ripples of gold
touched with amber
flow into long
blue-grey shadows
a few sparrows
peck scattered sunflower seeds
against
