Nathan's creations

Nathan and I really enjoy reading poetry together, especially on drives to San Antonio. We keep a collection of poetry anthologies to peruse often. I am constantly touched by the power and mastery of language in poetry. It often moves me to tears at the sheer beauty and skill with which a poet paints a picture in words. It makes me also inclined to use my language better, however feeble my attempts may be.

On a recent trip to the bookstore we were dismayed to learn that most major chain bookstores have only one small shelf of poetry. It's really sad that most of the American population doesn't read poetry. They miss so much! Good poetry does so much to enrich our lives, it would be like living without music to live without poetry. 

Nathan has been reveling in poetry lately, and I highly delight in it. I wanted to share a few samples of his latest works. 

Please consider them carefully. 

Visitors

An awkward acquaintance and poor host is Time;

our alliance not quite apropos.

Interim guests in an unwelcome clime,

we drift in its river-like flow.

Forgetting- as salmon, defying the stream,

obsessed with its urgent commotion-

that we exist not for this dim, death-bound dream

but a tranquil and unending ocean.

From moment to moment

(Visitors II)

Mortal moments are variable visitors.
The savage seemingly stay too long;
the tender tarry too briefly.

As gusty grass does, briefly;

 moments waver.

Wisdom winks in the experienced eye

but in the moment eyes are weak.

The clock, cold, slows then.

Life's blissful lamp dims then

 in that moment.

Mourn not the icy moments remaining

like frigid ramparts between us.

We'll not always be apart.

As warm'd ice-walls melt apart,

 icy moments die.

Sweet dawning day, dispel the dark!

All perished, impediment-moments.

The lamp burns brightly again;
and time flits by hot again;

 for a moment.

Epilogue

Then gladly await the birth of the day

when interred be all meager moments.

Time will warmly wait at last,

and Love will ever light our last,

 Eternal Moment.

 This following poem is about Nathan's very favorite flower in Texas. It smells like grape bubble gum, and infuses the air with this scent liberally. Whenever we pass a mountain laurel bush, Nate stops and breathes deeply, with a blissfully happy smile. 

The Song of the Mountain Laurel

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calia_secundiflora)

(An Amateur Attempt at Alliteration)

For the fancy fragrance lovely laurels have,

in March so unselfishly shared.

My soul, your scent soothes as a spiritual salve;

by your beautiful blossom when bared.

Your blooming bough bearing big bunches of buds,

like grapes, in great gushing groups.

As from that fruit, your fine fragrance floods.

Thus saddled, your sprig strains and stoops.

You laudable laurels look like lilacs a little;

a hard, homely hedge in the heat.

But so pretty presenting, with pride, purple petal

in spring, that smells simple and sweet.

Lovely laurels! I long for your lavender lace

in delicate, draping display,

and your pungent perfume, all-pervading this place,

dispelling the drudg'ry of day.

 This last poem is my personal favorite thus far. There can be so much read into this poem if you take the time to analyze it. He was very careful in selecting the imagery so there is more than one story to read in it. I love it so much.

A Record Borne 
Moses 6:63

Behold majestic mountains and the ancient, tow'ring pine.
Pointing up to heaven they indicate that they are Mine.
These, by My Hand created, a record bear of Me.
The sun, the moon, the stars, the earth, the mountain, and the sea.
Delight in winds that sweep the mountain snow across the sky,
in thund'rous rain that soaks the fields and grows the grass thereby,
in meadows painted blue and red with flowers in the spring,
in mornings lit with sacred music when the songbirds sing.
Know these splendors of the earth created were for thee.
They witness of the great I Am, and record bear of Me.

Rejoice in life, in agency, in every borrowed breath,
in happy comfort in the hope of living after death.
With wonder feel the tiny fingers of an infant's hand;
reflect on promised progeny more plentiful than sand.
Perceive out, of My marvelous works, so beautiful and wild,
the nature of the love between a father and his child.

Behold, all have their likeness; things above and things below.
All things upon this earth I gave that those who see may know.
The lily of the field, the sparrow, and the lamb;
all My creations point to Me,
bear record that I Am.