Time for my last poem for Peter Steele, this one based on his simple and delicate “An Ordinary Evening in Kew”. Less theological than the other poems I have chosen, this one is a wonderful tribute to the simple beauties of God’s gift of life.
Morning Song (After "An Ordinary Evening in Kew") The Kensington street heats up for public holiday and I Race the heat down hills, past flats and parklands, through The lessening leaves that lined last week’s pavement. Autumn yawns as summer dawns again, and slow the street Awakes to greet the gift of sunrise without work. In my ears the swoop of violins, and heartbeat Growing with each downwards leap. My shins, uncertain, Hold together for the plummet, though this is rest Nonetheless: bodies, finite, all the same can sing And defy the grave, though ever moving to it. Birds’ music, poetry in movement: common grace A sign that more than this may soon be allowed. Welcome, street, and gambol now beside me, Gravity negating, the dance a dreaming joy. An Ordinary Evening in Kew - Peter Steele On the one hand, Dante, and in the other pocket The man who took his mind and left New Haven For parts unknown. What were they up to, The stoutly suited broker of our fortunes, The burning Florentine? Watching the rain Descend as if it chose to, giving vent To laws at once of gravity and mercy, I'm brought to book by earth's imagination, The bearing of the trees, exfoliation Of these most rambling streets, the rise of lights Captive upon their poles and in my eyes. Come in, you two: see if you'll make a lodging An hour at least with the rest who wait inside, Heads full of dreaming, bodies compelled by time. (From Peter Steele, White Knight With Beebox: New and Selected Poems, John Leonard Press, 2008)
The Consolations of Writing 