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Tennessee Summers
Humid Tennessee forests
In the green, green summer
Filled with bugs and roots and boulders
And the feeling of profound
Quiet loneliness
in the din
Of birds and the soft wind
Which makes fat, wet leaves
Shake their dew on my head
And freedom
At night, the stars prick
Through the dense
Leaféd canopy
Like silver needle points
Through the cloth of
The indigo-black sky
And the Milky Way
Like a shimmering pennant
Way up high
Caught, unfurling, in a cosmic breeze
Is it foolish that I know
Scientifically
What all of this is
But in my heart
I don't know what it is
At all
I have nothing but questions
when I get like this
Somehow it is all
connected,
To me.
This is an excellent poem,
This is an excellent poem, and the final stanza is very, very accurate. Your body contains atoms that were ejaculated into deep space after being fused in their cores, so there is an innate sense, in your flesh, of being part of the Cosmos. I believe Poets have the task of explaining the Cosmos to itself; and this poem definitely participates in that process.
Starward-Led [in Chrismation, Januarius]