Donald Justice : "There is a Gold Light In Certain Old Paintings"

1

There is a gold light in certain old paintings

That represents a diffusion of sunlight.

It is like happiness, when we are happy.

It comes from everywhere and from nowhere at once, this light,

          And the poor soldiers sprawled at the foot of the Cross

          Share in this charity equally with the cross.

 

2

Orpheus hesitated beside the black river

With so much to look forward to he looked back.

We think he sang then, but the song is lost.

At least he had seen once more the beloved back.

 I say the song went this way: O prolong

 Now the sorrow if that is all there is to prolong.

3 

The world is very dusty, uncle. Let us work.

One day the sickness shall pass from the earth for good.

The orchard will bloom; someone will play the guitar.

Our work will be seen as strong and clean and good.

         And all that we suffered through having existed 

         Shall be forgotten as though it had never existed.

Donald Justice : "About My Poems"

How fashionably sad my early poems are!

On their clipped lawns and hedges the snows fall;

Rains beat against the tarpaulins of their porches,

Where, Sunday mornings, the bored children sprawl,

Reading the comics, before the parents rise.

--  The rhymes, the meters, how they paralyze!

Who walks out through their streets tonight? No one.

You know these small towns, how all traffic stops

At ten; the corner streetlamps gathering moths;

And the pale mannequins waiting in dark shops,

Undressed, and ready for the dreams of men.

--  Now the long silence. Now the beginning again.

Donald Justice "Collected Poems"  --  Albert A. Knopf. Inc  ©2004

Deo Omnis Gloria

 

The Rod

The LORD says

Arise,

Plead your case before the mountains,

Let the hills hear your voice.

Hear the rod!

Beowulf

Blessed is he

who after death

can approach

      The LORD

and find friendship

in the Father's embrace.

Lines 187-188

Charles L. Hall (1847-1940)

 Surely into the warp and woof of our North Dakota fabric, we can, if we will, weave a small red strand, not indeed bulkingly large, but enough to give a piquancy to the pattern, that future generations with a larger sense of humanity will appreciate more than the present.

Out Of A Stone