Poems for Helen
By Trevor Blum
There are worlds
And stars
And peace
Infinite gentleness
In a waste
Of want
Intuitions sharp enough
To divide
the soul
Understandings so fine
They become
Unlivable
There are turnings
Onto
unsure paths
Guidance
Of
Unsure light
And there are
jelly-babies
in a basket
I will leave
at
your door
On nights
When
my mind
Snows
Thick
Cold
Drifts
Of
Confusion.
Cloudy Day
This ponderous, oppressive sky
Grey circumscription of my visual field
Lies heavy, touching me not.
Your eyes, mouth, hair
Delimiting my emotional field
Lighter than substance, touch me.
I am warmed by your mouth,
Your breath moves me
I am a warm reed basking
Secretly on a grey day.
Watching the movement of the other reeds,
Knowing their desolation,
I am content with my soul-still,
Breath-moved,
Joy-warmed
Vegetable life.