about the shivers
running down your spine.
Shivers won’t run
when talk is going on.
When you touch the holy stone
or read the words of the sacred book,
touch and look, but never talk.
Minds don’t shine
when songs are being sung.
The yew that stands in the ancient wood
lets seed cones fall within
circles of thrush and waxwing calls.
Trees never grow without the sun,
whatever was being thought
while the seeds were sown.
Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 2:18 PM UTC
about the shivers
running down your spine.
Shivers won’t run
when talk is going on.
When you touch the holy stone
or read the words of the sacred book,
touch and look, but never talk.
Minds don’t shine
when songs are being sung.
The yew that stands in the ancient wood
lets seed cones fall within
circles of thrush and waxwing calls.
Trees never grow without the sun,
whatever was being thought
while the seeds were sown.
B.T. Joy is a British poet and short fiction writer living in Glasgow. He has also lived in London, Aberdeen and Heilongjiang, Northern China. His poetry and short fiction has appeared in magazines, journals, anthologies and podcasts worldwide including poetry in Yuan Yang, The Meadow, Toasted Cheese, Numinous: Spiritual Poetry, Presence, Paper Wasp, Bottle Rockets, Mu, Frogpond and The Newtowner, among many others. His debut collection of poetry, Teaching Neruda, was released in 2015 by Popcorn Press and his 2016 collection Body of Poetry is also available through Amazon. He can be reached through his website: http://btj0005uk.wix.com/btjoypoet