A Thousand Flowers
A thousand flowers bloom in my garden,
Daffodils of white, yellow and orange
Gather in crowds, stand sentry, wander the yard,
Hyacinths and tulips celebrate in a riot of color,
A carpet of purple, a cloud of white,
The pompous peony standing apart.
A thousand dreams bloom in my heart,
Smells of a Tuscan afternoon,
Evening chill on the Maasai Mara,
The fragment of a song, the promise of a fresh canvas,
Languages tonal, guttural, melodic,
A dance in the Macedonian midnight.
A thousand projects bloom on my desk,
Data to master, deals to make,
Where millions become budget dust,
And mistakes are paid in blood.
Where decades of experience,
Weigh the vagaries of the moment.
But through it all there is one.
In the beauty of the flowers,
It is your face I see;
When my dreams take me traveling,
It is you with whom I share discovery;
And it is you who shares my burden
Of finding the right path in the fog.
Ancient Eagle Press
Where Old Fliers Come to Roost
Each month Ancient Eagle Press offers a poem appropriate to the season or the mood of our editorial staff. Poems may be new or drawn from existing AEP editions.
April 2017 -- Oboe Rap
March 2017 - March Madness
February 2017 -- The Cost of Doing Business
January 2017 -- Reflection at a Winter Window
December 2016 -- The Creation
November 2016 -- Hemolymph Moon
October 2016 -- Vortex
September 2016 -- Do You?
Poem of the Month
Looking ahead is always more energizing than looking backward. While the past may be reinterpreted and reevaluated, it is basically a done deal. What happened in April will not change. May, on the other hand, presents itself to us as a blank canvas upon which we can paint an infinite variety of futures. Fame, fortune, love and adventure compete with plague, famine, pestilence and reality TV to color our May canvas.
Fortunately it is springtime, when our autumn plantings bud forth and spring ephemerals grace the forest. Winter blahs are banished and the spirit soars, relegating all thoughts of tragedy and the Oxford comma to the psychic compost heap. So fame, fortune, love and adventure it is!
To begin May, here’s a poem that starts in the springtime garden and celebrates the endless possibilities of dreams, adventure and love. Enjoy.