Notty Bumbo, 2019
Each day we wake,
Say we know who we are.
The edges of the Universe never meet,
The center of the Earth
Cannot remember the surface.
We barely know what we seek,
And even then the Moon ignores us.
In my garden color delights the bees,
But my old flag cannot feed them.
Look under the forest duff,
Building since the last asteroid fell.
There we will see all we cannot know,
Will find abiding shame in our hubris.
I have listened honestly with my bones
For the sounds of morning,
Heard the sunflower shift it’s distant stare,
Hoping the Sun remembers its name.
Knowing is never complete,
We slowly accrete the stuff of time’s sorrow,
Find our rings becoming denser at the core.
Heartwood merely the compression of our limits;
In the new bark is where redemption grows.
Oh, how we lean against the wind’s desire,
Gather our selves like a harvest of tomorrows.
Who we are is always less than what we seek.
Bring me more wine, old friend,
That I may rid myself of confusion,
And besot myself with wonder!