Sunday, August 7, 2011


in the little world
of my creation
there is a courtyard
filled with woods and rivers and ponds and skies
trees and flowers and rocks
birds and fish and animals

and on the walls of the courtyard
are pictures of my history

something in the courtyard will enter
one of the pictures
and in its leaving
a song will emerge
and i write it here

holding it
in place

all the better
to see it

all the better
to know


a lamasery
with hanging gardens.
battle pictures

thoughts stand unmoving
like the mosaic tiles
in the palace yard

words tomas tranströmer


Jinksy said...

The walls of my courtyard are making me feel claustrophobic today, I'm sorry to say...I want to magic them away!

Reya Mellicker said...

House of mirrors ... yeah, I totally get that one!

erin said...

everything leaves us transformed. and you sing. rather than walls, steven, it feels as though your courtyard faces both inward and outward, as though no one might guess which side the gizzard is on.