I Used to Write Love Poems
Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 11:53 PM | Comments (0)
December 13, 2017THE CALL TO CREATE!
A star exploded deep within you years ago
and still the light has not yet reached your eyes,
not yet turned the night to day for birds to leave their nests
or monks their caves to play.
Blind to your own infusion, you insist there is nothing to see,
nothing to celebrate your reasonless being for,
and yet you feel it, you quake, you quiver to begin.
An unseen trembling turns your head,
the way you stand, the wind, the ground beneath your feet.
You think the shock of this bodily remembrance is fear
and do not sing, do not burst into song,
do not wring the beauty of the sound long buried in your bones.
You stop and throw a stone, half hoping it will come back to you,
and wait as if there was time,
wait, like a beggar ashamed to ask for a bowl to beg with.
How can this be?
The sky is bluer that the eyes of your own mother
on the day she first beheld you and still you cast your gaze down.
Don't you remember?
You were made in the image of God!
The Creator! The One who creates
river, eagle, ladybug, leaf.
If anyone else gave you the moon you'd call him a thief
or worse, refuse to look.
Give up the notion of stealing from God,
the only crime here is to hoard.
Prometheus?
Only board of chilly nights
with no flame to write his poetry by.
Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 06:56 PM | Comments (0)
December 08, 2017Come to the Edge of the Shore
Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 07:57 AM | Comments (0)
December 05, 2017There Is a Poem I Will Write
Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 11:43 PM | Comments (0)
