observing some progress

another vision lights the winter day
we see the changes take photographs
the time's propitious for smiles and laughs
things seem to be steady underway
we're almost done this act of the long play
now to encourage the reluctant staffs
or think of the amusing wooden giraffes
that make us for a moment pause and stay
in time we'll see this as a short rough phase
annoying but in the end we have a home
and that's the thing that matters for us all
these are the changing the slow-creeping days
as back and forth to view the change we roam
the process tires but seems never to pall

Season's greetings

To all who read this, greetings of the season.
We're here to commemorate the most noble birth
of Mithras, Jesus, Sol, each the true master of earth,
and other gods and goddesses, though only within reason.
The gods, this time of year, of our land take seisin,
but still encourage us to feats of joy and mirth
as long as we pause to proclaim their worth,
as doing otherwise would be the highest treason.
And other days there are that we should mark:
Hannukah, Kwanzaa, Bodhi, Sylvester, the New Year;
or if we don't acknowledge at the least mention,
and thank the gods or heroes for their presence.
So I ask all, for this time cast off all fear,
abandon all hesitations or apprehension,
instead for this short time praise effervescence.

unintentional community

distances disappear the friends that we make
are people we may never meet nor see
we'll never have a drink nor have some tea
but at a distance each our thirst will slake
yet over time the bond we have won't shake
it will be far firmer than the stoutest tree
a bond that holds us even though we're free
not of the body but of minds that take
the time to recognise who's worth the thought
and who is not who makes the finest sense
and who's a waste of time and space and air
with those we choose we find ourselves just caught
in a relationship that lacks all pretense
but which provides us with a friendship clear

looking forwards

there's nothing here that we could really need
the surfeit of good things does not mean much
reality's far more than we could hope to touch
and nothing's less necessary than that we feed
on anything that could even just subtly excite greed
but equally unlike a rabbit in its warm hutch
on a cold rainy day we cannot merely clutch
close to ourselves what might be in its turn the seed
of something better something that's true gold
though it look drossy thin wasted or still tired
yet will surprise us with what was hidden power
we need to take it up need urgently to enfold
it into our selves to remember that the fired
energies stored in us also wait their proper hour

the pines (after pondal)

what say those who whisper upon the coastal height
their bent pine-branches by the soft wind shaken
for clear words we have their murmurs taken
illumined by the pale rays of the deep moonlight
their essence shines through darkly green yet bright
we hear their speech we are in no way mistaken
they summon a hero's heirs at long last to waken
and for their noble heritage in proper time to fight
the good and generous their urgent talk will hearken
and eagerly will gather to hear even harshest sound
while the miserly and submissive still bend to the yoke
their dull spirits should not our stout hearts darken
we must now stand and cherish our own ancestral ground
the wise bards now are praising a free and honest folk