Summer Session
Steven Federle
Summer Poems, 2011
The Summons
“When
the sun rises each one of us is summoned
by
the living and the dead to praise God.”
Thomas
Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander.
At
dawn
you
sent
towering
clouds
and
fine ice driven
into
spring roses,
red
petals scattered
on
pure white ground
and
took my breath away,
so
now I seek you
like
death
clean
and clear
in
lingering day
as
green and golden,
long
shadows flow east
and
birdsong fills
nodding
trees.
Breathless
I
hear you!
In
gentle rhythm
of
swaying wind
I
hear my father’s
song
again.
Through Thin Windows
Through thin windows I see
young leaves rising to twilight storm,
blue mist shimmering
on quick-silver street,
as glowing grass drops
into blackening copse.
With stygian hand
has night claimed
declining day.
Like Rising Flames
Like
rising flame
my
love ignites
the
dawn
as
molten sky
pours
holy gold
to
fill your
folded
valley
and
compel your love
to
conspire
with
my soul’s
hot
desire.
Motion
My
body’s always in motion
running
through unseen routines
forcing
air, chest rising and falling,
heart-blood
coursing
through
a million small chambers
to
glow red again.
Even
at rest
my
chest rises to cold air
and
drinks it in, clean and clear,
and
with heady ambition,
I
run,
my
aging legs pounding
this
treadmill
to
nowhere.
But
I know this
is
a temporary condition.
Soon
enough
my
blood will congeal and
pool
into still, cool wells.
No
more will I wake
though
bright morning itself
should
shake my shoulder
and
with swelling song
bid
me rise,
for
I am not made
for
eternity’s day.
Death
waits
and
will not
be
turned away.
Cathartes Aura
Walking
to my car
on
a warm afternoon
up
on the high hillside lot
close
to the cliff drop,
I
see rising beneath me
the
bird,
wings
spreading six feet,
head
naked and red as blood,
white
beak hooking invisible winds
to
fill the creamy hollow of under-feather,
lifting
on thermals
before
my eyes,
when
two small blackbirds
dive
from unseen heights
and
viciously caw as they peck
the
black back.
Top
guns, fighter aces;
these
lords of the open sky
sharply
turn as the heavy buzzard wheels
through
dark pines.
I
clutch my keys
and
stay to watch the fight.
I
want to see how, with curling feathers
and
piercing rage
these
small beasts
protect
their living nest.
In My Silence
In
my silence I hear your song,
gentle
breezes
filling
tender leaves.
O
feel my prayer,
my
failing despair.
In
my darkness I feel your breath
echoing
my heart’s
steady
beating,
O
fill my emptiness,
my
dying,
with
eyes
like
stars
consuming
night
Wrapped in Trembling Skin
Wrapped in trembling skin,
my throbbing nerves
synapse
to chaos, pain, and pleasure
permeation of
sensation.
Fear or joy
compounds
the fall of day.
Night
fills my eyes
light fails
Clouds
pile high, tear
to tatters, shred
vapors scudding over
grey hills.
There
I see my self-
made
hell.
Penitent
I burnished my heart.
Proudly trusting my love,
I generously gave it
to myself.
But still you embraced me
and beyond all reason
made of me
your golden lamp,
to shatter sin’s deceiving night
with your never-ending
reflected light.
Through These Front Windows
see how our neighbor’s trees
fill with dusky breeze
as bright sky fades to bluest steel.
Light laces through the blackening limbs;
swaying crowns arch
while just above
climbs the golden star.
Oh! See how the planet, worlds apart
from our own treading voyager,
glides through God’s black, velvet heart.
Darkness fill the tender earth.
Sudden night joyfully buoys
our slowly turning, blue-green world
with His sacramental void.
Paradise
Deep inside
I carry paradise,
a bright flood,
pours through
my soul’s veins,
but like a blind fish,
I cannot see
the holy river
running through
my radiant cave.
On a good, clear day, though,
staring hard beyond me,
I can almost see
God’s holy fire
bounding off
my boundless sea.
The Boy’s Gift
I only have
two little fish and
the five barley loaves
my mother packed
for my father and me
for our long
walk home.
I’ve been hungry before
and fear losing my little dinner,
but your eyes so fill my heart,
that, smiling, I give you all I have.
Oh, you must be the One!
for from my meager dole
you feed five thousand souls.
Never again
will I be hungry!
Wait
Cold winds lash
spring branches;
new leaves
lust
for heat;
torn stems
litter
tender new grasses
and wait
for discordant chimes
to rend the sky,
release bright spirits,
charm the shy sun ,
and cast to waiting earth
Summer.
Black-jay
Black-jay
falls to verdant earth
searching
living soil as
soft rain
soothes the bitter truth
of being.
Invocation
O fill me
with your breath.
My soul
will dance
like leaves
glad in your breeze.
In green morning
will I arise
to sing your gladsome song.
O call me
and I will
rush to your side!
Deep in your holy wood,
will we walk -
you leading the way
and I behind
in your sacred shade.
Hamza al-Khatib,
smiled sweetly.
Was he thinking of school
and soccer, or friends
waiting to play
when they caught him,
roughly hauled him into their white van
took him to their station, and demanded
confession
from his glistening tears,
from his tender face flushed
with confusion and fear?
They would make of him
an example
of what happens to those
who pursue happiness
in Assad’s Syria.
But you, weeping parents,
you-tube us your tortured children’s
distorted faces, gaping chests
torn arms, dishonored genitals.
Show us how
Assad destroys your future.
O parents of Syria, rise up
and send Assad to
to cower before heaven’s gate
as Allah
gently cradles
your slaughtered
children.
Matins
Times
of transition
appeal to my sense of
transcendence.
In
joyful morning
eastern gold flows
over our highest leaves.
The
blue-jays shriek
as our cat prowls
the wet grass.
She
does not care
that this is the edge of time.
But I can
feel the sun’s fire
as I work in the yard
and hear the
mockingbird
in our highest eves
calling to his love
in the
cherry tree!
Soon the wind
again will rise
and another
summer day
will coldly decline
as the western fires
wilt
to
bluest steel, to
blackest silk.
Golden-eyed Day
Golden-eyed day
blazing through trees
swaying,
mockingbirds and blue-jays
clinging
to dancing branches, singing
as a feathered form
flashes darkly past
and is gone in a blinking.
But silence remains,
an empty chair
waiting.
Transubstantiation
Golden eyed, blazing
through summer trees
gently swaying
you blind me,
bind your warm hands
to my sluggish brow
and ignite me with your holy flame.
My heart, fiery and free
soars high, with you
always beside me
leading me
through dissolving mists
‘til pure at last,
at last I see
you’re filling me
with your eternal mind,
making of me your sacred bread,
your free-flowing
wine.
Instrument
Make me your
hammer.
I’ll pound
the stubborn nails down
til all boards become one.
Let me be a fierce nail,
and I’ll pierce your living flesh,
number all your bones.
My rough hand will smooth
away sin’s sharp edge
and bring low life’s
knot of corruption.
With gleaming blade
will I open a wound
pulsing joyfully in your side
to anoint with living blood
the guilty hands
of soldiers.
So use me, O builder,
and build your house
of many rooms.
View from Sutro
Seen from golden heights
the tangled city
squares up.
Straight streets,
rigid veins
spurt quicksilver
past towers
of fog.
It throbs.
Hearts, minds,
sing passion
joy, lust,
boredom.
A dying man
clings to desperate sheets,
passing;
An infant cries
drawing raw air,
beginning.
It’s alive,
greater
than its sum.
See how it beats
in the cool Pacific sun?
Solano Sunset
Tangerine sky
etched edge, black
cut ridge,
dusky plain
broad valley
waiting
for inky night
to fill
the great bowl
of earth.
Ego-trip
Locked inside
where only I can be
lonely cries echo,
deafening me.
I peer through sockets
through skull
and soft flesh,
blood coursing
nerves enmesh
electric thoughts rocketing
through bone-strapped brain,
lightning revealing
God's face once again.
With muttering thunder,
the sad world declines
back into empty
personal night.
Your Sadness
Your sadness
fills me with
longing.
Of failing bodies
we talk, of
treacherous blood, aching sinew,
swelling hearts, fiery love’s
dream, passion’s youth
fading to dull pain.
I want to pass the night
locked in your fresh embrace
but time
darkly intervenes,
shadows impenetrably
lie between.
Wind-chimes
Wind-chimes
clamor in the night.
Breezes rush
through unseen leaves.
Darkness reveals a deeper sight.
Call me from
this empty room
and give the wind
my breath of
desire.
Set my sluggish soul aflame.
I’ll rise like sparks
and fill the night
with your
consuming
fire.
Starlings
Clean and cold, bird-full
dawn’s veils drop to where starlings
rear their satin heads,
raise their diamond eyes,
praise the perfect sky and drink
clear tears from heaven.
Words
Words
fill my pages
as the world rages, darkness pervades
yet I pray
for new days,
worlds without end
endless words
(flashy
magic, shaman tricks
conjuring spirits
from spell-bound
minds)
you cannot find
your answer in
words.
From Across the Meadow
From across the meadow
that comes between the highway
and our house, I can see the stand
of tall trees marking our place
on this wide earth.
They wave to us
in the warm summer breeze,
watch anxiously as we
cross the busy tracks
and make the wide turn,
safe again,
home -
and when we stroll
through the green evening yard,
inspecting rose and blushing tomato
these guardian spirits
patiently wait
as the veil of crimson
silently falls.
French Park Creek
Deep in the woods
down the steep trench
we call to each other -
to the creek we descend
through green shadows rushing
over shallow, smooth stones,
to deeper, dark pools
where love lies, alone.
Hand in warm hand
we run, holding tight
and laughing we fall
to our own secret night.
Caught in the Web
Caught in the web
I cannot move.
Memory
strains for depleted days
like thunder raging
in distant valleys.
I recall the squalls
that shattered my sky,
the rain that poured spite
and held me in its
violent thrall.
Yet
I may not flee
to what still may be
though intently I peer into
fading western air
to find some sign
of tomorrow’s beauty
or fear.
Thus Hope
wavers and fails
like a pithy stalk
in a ceaseless gale.
day’s end
I fill this small space,
coarse stone in the stream,
as soft, summer winds
gently shape me,
my rough lines smoothing,
polishing dull skin,
‘til golden and gleaming
I’m clean once again.
Omnipresence
In the psalms of night birds
in the bright morning trees,
I hear your song echoing,
overwhelming me.
Always above me,
around and below,
inside me your faithful love’s
a constant glow.
In warm summer’s ocean,
in the soft breath of night
I sway in the rhythm
of your passionate life.
The People of the West Wind
Suisunes once lived
beneath the Twin Sisters.
Ascending beyond the vineyards and twisted oaks,
they still drift through morning mist,
and walk the sacred paths
of their fathers.
Guardian oaks still embrace the People.
Meandering branches lean low,
give the clambering children
an easy climb
up high to where acorns
fall in the western wind
to feed
their hungry
souls.