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Saturday, November 27, 2010

The Stage of Life

The Globe - London...At Merchant of Venice
                       
                          We stand upon a stage so large

                       as actors  artists   taking charge
                       of roles  of destiny  of fate
                       of philosophies too grand to state
                       So rather   then     we make them shrink
                       to a macrocosm where we think
                       we let them see the players pass
                       like Tyndall projections in a glass


                       We dance  We see through
                       circumstance       and think through trance
                       We dance    We play      and set our wits to wing
                       We find the source     we lose the thing   and
                       still we sing    We sing     until we lose our voice


                       We feel the need to vent our choice    We
                       hear the chord   the steady prance
                       of heartbeat   offbeat chance     We twist
                       as we climb   We dance 


                       We live     We know stars will attest
                       to time and space      we did exist
                       We seize with dauntless will
                       a measure of the stuff that separates all life
                       from that which never breathes   we rarefy our time
                       before the curtain falls        in ways bizarre     unique
                       Because       We Live

 

© Gay Reiser Cannon All Rights Reserved

Saturday, November 20, 2010

THANKSGIVING


Glory Window in Chapel of Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Square, Dallas, Texas


At the end of color when 
trees stand 

exposed bare to bark 
a man feels a stark

need to replenish 
by going home 


To seek with kith and kin
reunion once again

to search old cupboards 
for secrets left therein

to ruminate in thoughts
once put aside

for things he thought 
one ought to hide

To settle into introspection,
or seek lost images 

in reflection 
listening to conversations 

without understanding 
or concentration

His eye 
explores each room 

each shelf 
where love was stored

in things so small as
the details of a dishtowel

and wonders how 
designs so simple and so old

can illuminate the very
borders of his soul

© Gay Reiser Cannon All Rights Reserved

Monday, November 15, 2010

INTERSTATE ANXIETY

                             I talk aloud 
                             to traffic
                             driving down 
                             the rainy highway

                             my history runs 
                             like a movie
                             in the back of my mind

                             I know this road 

                             spray fans from mudflaps 
                             in front of me

                             I sense my grown children 
                             as toddlers seeking 
                             freedom from 
                             their restraining belts 

                             my neck tightens 
                             with tension

                             I pass roadside 
                             restaurants
                             where we ate 
                             as a family

                             they waver 
                             at various ages
                             like the passing cars 
                             blurring through rain drops

                             views of us swipe by
                             with each pass of the wipers

                             while my eyes seek the center lines
                             and scan the rear view mirror
                             for approaching danger

                                      © Gay Reiser Cannon * All Rights Reserved


Friday, November 5, 2010

Another November


crisp autumn leaves change
turn vivid in light's bright rays
brilliant year-end days   
           
born to the season
the number five burnished gold
November unfolds
                   
your life unravels
while time dances pirouettes
overlapping itself   
               
ends meet beginnings
the future lies in mirrors
the past, jacket close
                   
a flash behind eyes
memories like darting birds
time like leaves shredded
                   
debris of spent years
caught in the cracks and corners
now treasured relics
                   
measured clarity
when wisdom surmounts passion
yet flows to the sea
                   
words spilled from our cups
linger through changing seasons
define you and me

         
          © Gay Reiser Cannon * All Rights Reserved