a poem: “that summer morning, I remember well...”

Ordinarily I don’t publish so much poetry at Theoria-press, and instead try to provide mostly essays with an odd poem or sonnet occasionally interspersed among them. But the Muse’s visits have outstripped my ability to keep pace with prose pieces so readers who prefer essays should peruse the archives of this site, which are replete with them.

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THAT summer morning, I remember well
Heaven’s vaulted dome was blue and clear
clear as the chimes of a church’s bell
that sound from the distance into which we peer

and before us stood, majestic and proud
arrayed with vaporous garments of the day
bestrewn by lace of cirrus cloud
the highland that we wished to make our way

and the triumphal peak, manifest to our view
fretted by a sheen of Summer light
so arm-in-hand we set off, me and you
to close the distance and to scale the height

but ere long as on the ascent we toiled
by obstacles we found ourselves beset
o’er stones we stumbled, skirted serpents coiled
dust stuck in our throats, eyes stinging with sweat

the mountaintop from present sight withdrew
and then alone in memory and hope
could we discern the goal before we knew
awaited at the summit of the slope

can’t that be enough to endure, to last?
faith is first in love, followed by feeling
so let us gird our minds with fondness past
and happy thought, when despair is stealing

through the swinging portal our hearts
and fear creeps in, and sentiment departs
and affections scatter like startled birds
and naught remains but nests of empty words

and if your strength should finally falter
let it not your resolution alter
even if your proud heart should finally break
climb on me, and you on my back I’ll take

don’t give me your pity but your weight
load me like a sailer decked with freight
for my yoke is easy, my burden light
for as a feather is a heart contrite

Photo by Azin Javadzadeh on Unsplash