His ample graying beard
nearly covers crinkled flesh
his eyes focus on the stars
that surround him
his hat with its spangled band
bent slightly down in front
seems to say: I am traveler of Earth.
I wonder what transcendence
dances behind those eyes
slowly moving like Zorba,
arms out gently waving,
an eagle in flight.
Like the old man
I want to bear witness to the universe
in the wave of my mind
to give flight to words
infiltrate, expand and release them
and maybe figure out my small part
in the great mystery.
Aug 26, 2020
Aug 26, 2020 at 5:43 PM UTC
His ample graying beard
nearly covers crinkled flesh
his eyes focus on the stars
that surround him
his hat with its spangled band
bent slightly down in front
seems to say: I am traveler of Earth.
I wonder what transcendence
dances behind those eyes
slowly moving like Zorba,
arms out gently waving,
an eagle in flight.
Like the old man
I want to bear witness to the universe
in the wave of my mind
to give flight to words
infiltrate, expand and release them
and maybe figure out my small part
in the great mystery.
Author’s Note: I bow to poet, Mark Strand for ideas about a poet’s task. This poem is based on a photocreation by a friend of mine, Garth Mindfeather Hill: https://www.flickr.com/photos/mindfeather/8628345020/in/photolist-BJJtpC-t7KXZr-rZg32Q-qDAQN6-e9swnj-cf92s5-q7VAdi-i5hXm4-cvN7S9-kZRjXk-hc1aP9-ThYpFd-SdDME4-SynjPA-uymERL-f7vaww-hWof1d-rz9v3A-9rkYHz-gPpVND
