Poetry

And meanwhile it has arrived. It’s here, invisible.
And an almond tree begins to bloom.
And only, as once for you, this remains real.
 
And the scent garnered me, all knowing ceased.
And so, one morning. In biting frost, all is cold.
And meanwhile it has arrived. It’s here, invisible.
 
And how to bless a moment if it is without pain.
And every shame, every grief, every love.
And only, as once for you, this remains real.
 
And chrysanthemums and the full moon.
And the visible world is all that remains.
And meanwhile it has arrived. It’s here, invisible.
 
And every word carved in stone grows its hoarfrost.
And I could only repeat it, instead of thinking.
And only, as once for you, this remains real.
 
And it should contain more than images.
And I with them. Not comprehending.
And meanwhile it has arrived. It’s here, invisible.
And only, as once for you, this remains real.
 
 
* This poem is a reprint. It was awarded an Honorable Merit in the Sketchbook Journal Found Poem Contest. Found in Horace’s Ars Poetica, the Latin phrase, “ut pictura poesis”, translates into “as is painting so is poetry”. This cento was written in 2011 to mark the birth centennial of Nobel Laureate Czeslaw Milosz. Each line is excerpted from one of Milosz’s poems, the villanelle experimenting with rhyme placement but retaining the form’s traditional repetitions and refrain. The nineteen lines have been derived from the following poems: “Preface”, “Natura”, “No More”, “Good Night”, “December 1”, “Dante”, “City of My Youth”, “A Meadow”, “To My Daimonion”, “After Enduring”, “Helene”, “When After a Long Life”, and “From the Rising of the Sun”.