Showing posts with label Clear Night by Charles Wright. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clear Night by Charles Wright. Show all posts

Friday, August 30, 2019

Clear Night by Charles Wright & My Pink Flowers

CLEAR NIGHT
By Charles Wright

Clear night, thumb-top of a moon, a back-lit sky. 
Moon-fingers lay down their same routine 
On the side deck and the threshold, the white keys and the black keys. 
Bird hush and bird song. A cassia flower falls. 

I want to be bruised by God. 
I want to be strung up in a strong light and singled out. 
I want to be stretched, like music wrung from a dropped seed.   
I want to be entered and picked clean. 

And the wind says “What?” to me. 
And the castor beans, with their little earrings of death, say “What?” to me. 
And the stars start out on their cold slide through the dark.   
And the gears notch and the engines wheel.

Charles Wright, “Clear Night” from Country Music: Selected Early Poems. 




Confederate Rose












Sunday, March 3, 2019

Clear Night by Charles Wright


A beautiful painting by my 14 year old artist/granddaughter, Mary Mace. 



CLEAR NIGHT
By Charles Wright

Clear night, thumb-top of a moon, a back-lit sky. 
Moon-fingers lay down their same routine 
On the side deck and the threshold, the white keys and the black keys. 
Bird hush and bird song. A cassia flower falls. 

I want to be bruised by God. 
I want to be strung up in a strong light and singled out. 
I want to be stretched, like music wrung from a dropped seed.   
I want to be entered and picked clean. 

And the wind says “What?” to me. 
And the castor beans, with their little earrings of death, say “What?” to me. 
And the stars start out on their cold slide through the dark.   
And the gears notch and the engines wheel.


Charles Wright, “Clear Night” from Country Music: Selected Early Poems. 


*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.” 
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Friday, August 19, 2016

Clear Night by Charles Wright

Last year's lunar eclipse moon...the magical clouds parted...


CLEAR NIGHT

By Charles Wright


Clear night, thumb-top of a moon, a back-lit sky. 
Moon-fingers lay down their same routine 
On the side deck and the threshold, the white keys and the black keys. 
Bird hush and bird song. A cassia flower falls. 

I want to be bruised by God. 
I want to be strung up in a strong light and singled out. 
I want to be stretched, like music wrung from a dropped seed.   
I want to be entered and picked clean. 

And the wind says “What?” to me. 
And the castor beans, with their little earrings of death, say “What?” to me. 
And the stars start out on their cold slide through the dark.   
And the gears notch and the engines wheel.


Charles Wright, “Clear Night” from Country Music: Selected Early Poems. 

Friday, January 22, 2016

Clear Night by Charles Wright

No, we didn't get any snow or ice.  But it was 70 degrees a few days ago!  Love Southern weather.  My daughter in Nashville got TWO snow days and shared some of her pics.  Wish I was there.

 This is where my younger daughter and her family live.  It's a beautiful place with a creek in back.

We surprised my son-in-law (who was so ill) with a new recliner.  His old one was 13 years old!

          Snow Angel by my granddaughter.

CLEAR NIGHT

By Charles Wright


Clear night, thumb-top of a moon, a back-lit sky. 
Moon-fingers lay down their same routine 
On the side deck and the threshold, the white keys and the black keys. 
Bird hush and bird song. A cassia flower falls. 

I want to be bruised by God. 
I want to be strung up in a strong light and singled out. 
I want to be stretched, like music wrung from a dropped seed.   
I want to be entered and picked clean. 

And the wind says “What?” to me. 
And the castor beans, with their little earrings of death, say “What?” to me. 
And the stars start out on their cold slide through the dark.   
And the gears notch and the engines wheel.


Charles Wright, “Clear Night” from Country Music: Selected Early Poems.