Even Trees Awake to a Breakfast of Light

April 29, 2016

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is trees, in honor of Arbor Day, which falls on April 29.

Today’s poem is a poem for Arbor Day about the inner life of trees.

I welcome comments on my poems at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Even trees awake to a breakfast of light.

In hungry excitement they elevate their leaves,

Great green choirs with ten thousand open mouths,

Hosanna-ing the sun from silent boughs.

Trees know glory with neither sound nor sight,

Yet spread their limbs with phototropic ease.

No one knows the inwardness of trees;

Imagination, though, rapport allows:

Nor sickness, fire, drought, nor age, nor blight

Erodes their silent worship of delight.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at http://www.poemsforfree.com/trees.html. For more philosophical poems, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/philosophicalpoems.html .

This week’s theme: Trees.

April 25: For Ancient Trees Weeping Once a Year

April 26: Ashley

April 27: After You Leave, I Will Become a Tree

April 28: To My Brother, the Tree upon My Plain

April 29: Even Trees Awake to a Breakfast ofLight

To My Brother, the Tree upon My Plain

April 28, 2016

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is trees, in honor of Arbor Day, which falls on April 29.

Today’s poem is a poem to a beloved older brother, comparing him to a tree.

I welcome comments on my poems at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

To my brother, the tree upon my plain,

Open and upright, of love and sunshine made,

My landmark, my windbreak, my shelter from the rain:

You gather my longings into your dappled shade.

Before I spoke, you commandeered my tongue;

Remnants of that lordship linger still.

On your expression all my heaven hung;

The least of what you wanted was my will.

However much may change, this love remains,

Even as new faces new days fill,

Rich in yearning, as when we were young.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at http://www.poemsforfree.com/tomybr.html. For more poems to family members, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/familypoems.html .

This week’s theme: Trees.

April 25: For Ancient Trees Weeping Once a Year

April 26: Ashley

April 27: After You Leave, I Will Become a Tree

April 28: To My Brother, the Tree upon My Plain

After You Leave, I Will Become a Tree

April 27, 2016

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is trees, in honor of Arbor Day, which falls on April 29.

Today’s poem is a love poem in which a woman waits for her distant lover like a tree.

I welcome comments on my poems at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

After you leave, I will become a tree

Alone on a hillside, loving wind and sun,

Waiting for you to return home to me

Though centuries of lonely stars may run.

I'll grow tall and give lots of shade,

Sheltering birds and other bright-eyed things.

Pleased with all the progress that I've made,

I'll spread my leafy branches out like wings.

But oh! Every moment of every day

I'll miss you with the passion of the wind,

Gazing endlessly upon the way

That without you must empty, empty wind.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at http://www.poemsforfree.com/after2.html. For more love poems, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/lovepoems.html .

This week’s theme: Trees.

April 25: For Ancient Trees Weeping Once a Year

April 26: Ashley

April 27: After You Leave, I Will Become a Tree

Ashley (Male)

April 26, 2016

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is trees, in honor of Arbor Day, which falls on April 29.

Today’s poem is a name poem comparing a young man to a sheltering tree.

I welcome comments on my poems at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Ashley stands slender on a hill,

Sheltering all sorts of bright-eyed things.

He spreads his youthful arms like angel's wings,

Luring the wind to rustle through his hair.

Easily, he bends through turbulent air,

Yielding when he must, yet upright still.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at http://www.poemsforfree.com/ashlem.html. For more name poems, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/namepoems.html .

This week’s theme: Trees.

April 25: For Ancient Trees Weeping Once a Year

April 26: Ashley

For Ancient Trees Weeping Once a Year

April 25, 2016

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is trees, in honor of Arbor Day, which falls on April 29.

Today’s poem is a poem about our spiritual need for trees.

I welcome comments on my poems at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

For ancient trees weeping once a year

Old, dried-out tears that congregate in dreams,

Roots cracking stones, branches thick as tropes,

Threatening roofs and power lines and bones;

Yet these remain our spirits' dearest homes,

Their silence irrefutable as popes,

Wild serenities, hushing all our schemes:

One's life must be more than pride and lust and fear.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at http://www.poemsforfree.com/ancien.html. For more philosophical poems, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/philosophicalpoems.html .

This week’s theme: Trees.

April 25: For Ancient Trees Weeping Once a Year

People Are a People by Design

April 24, 2016

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is faith and Jewish identity, in honor of Passover, which begins on the evening of April 22.

Today’s poem is a Passover, or Pesach, poem about how a ritual meal makes a myth real.

I welcome comments on my poems at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

People are a people by design,

Embracing who they were by who they are.

So does history become a meal,

A ritual that makes a memory real,

Calcifying what, beyond the bar,

Has not the substance of a glass of wine.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at http://www.poemsforfree.com/people.html. For more Passover poems, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/passoverpoems.html .

This week’s theme: Faith and Jewish Identity.

April 18: Praised Be Those Who Don’t Believe the Tale

April 19: How Best Can We Remember We Were Slaves

April 20: Part of Being Jewish Is a Choice

April 21: Perhaps Your Only Ritual Is the Seder

April 22: Palpably, You Are in This Room

April 23: Pretend There Were No Memories

April 24: People Are a People by Design

Pretend There Were No Memories

April 23, 2016

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is faith and Jewish identity, in honor of Passover, which begins on the evening of April 22.

Today’s poem is a Passover, or Pesach, poem about the importance of historical memory.

I welcome comments on my poems at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Pretend there were no memories,

Each generation on its own.

So would miracles and crimes

Alike be lost to their own times.

Crazed witnesses would on their knees

Haunt desperately our doors of stone.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at http://www.poemsforfree.com/prete2.html. For more Passover poems, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/passoverpoems.html .

This week’s theme: Faith and Jewish Identity.

April 18: Praised Be Those Who Don’t Believe the Tale

April 19: How Best Can We Remember We Were Slaves

April 20: Part of Being Jewish Is a Choice

April 21: Perhaps Your Only Ritual Is the Seder

April 22: Palpably, You Are in This Room

April 23: Pretend There Were No Memories