This poem by H.L. Hix entitled "Will My Word Grow into a Tree While I Water It Every Day with Silence?" appears in the summer 2015 edition of Colorado Review. For me, it evokes a fall scene in the Tibetan Himalayas.
It offers its gold leaves, the ginkgo,
half to the monastery and half
to the mountainside. The kept leaves blow,
if not on their way down, soon enough
against the wall. The given leaves know
their way, or need not, achieve, as if
bidden by it, the stream they follow
toward neither solace nor relief.
Downhill the given gather, mingle
with others equally stream-bidden,
but dwarf maple, and red, in a pool
where, still, they mimic meditation,
whisper nothing, nothing at all,
to any passerby who'll listen.
6 comments:
That is a beautiful poem. I'm going to copy and save it in my favorite poems folder. Thank you.
Robin Andrea: This poem is from the second issue of Colorado Review I have received as part of a 3-issue subscription. About 1/3 of the journal is poetry and, frankly, most of the poetry is not worth the paper it's printed on. I was just about to recycle the journal when I happened upon this poem. Boy, am I glad that I read it before I recycled the journal. I've read it and re-read it about five times, and I think I like it more every time I read it. I'm really glad you enjoyed it, too.
I have to admit to being pretty prosaic, but there's no question that poetry can express things that are very, vary hard to do in prose.
I couldn't agree with you more, Mark.
I enjoyed the poem very much, Scott. Thanks for posting it. Some of the images have a definite "Zen poetry" feel to them, and I've always been a real fan of Zen Buddhist and Taoist art.
Packrat: I agree with your take on the gestalt of the poem. I sent an email to H.L. Hix, who teaches at the University of Wyoming, to express my appreciation for the poem, and he emailed back his thanks.
Post a Comment