Capturing the Word | Becoming is Superior to Being

Tom Taking A Moment to Rest Before Setting Up Camp on Mica Mountain (April 2012) — Image by kenne

Remembering So Much, Yet So Little

We walked together as brothers
His a shuffled pace totaling
Many unnumbered miles
Remembering so much, yet so little

Have known him for the last ten years
Reminding me of my brother,
It seemed like a lifetime
Remembering so much, yet so little

When we first met
We were in a hiking group
For me, all were strangers
Remembering so much, yet so little

He had that something
We all feel but can’t explain
As with the wistfulness of used books
Remembering so much, yet so little

Hiking dusty trails, stirred only by our steps,
A soft breeze unable to lift
The dust above our boots
Remembering so much, yet so little

Sharing a love of the wild
To hear sounds, see vistas
In the desert and sky islands
Remembering so much, yet so little

He was born with a feel for the moment
Making use of the incidentals
Whether invited or not
Remembering so much, yet so little

An eye for beauty and form
Where nothing is perfect
And everything is perfect.
Remembering so much, yet so little

Always ready to go farther afield
Looking for new trails – such as
The Hidden Pasture Trail
Remembering so much, yet so little

Meticulously researching new adventures
Was a hobby driven by the belief
One knows the country through direct contact
Remembering so much, yet so little

Possessing a diverse love of life
Sharing stories of youthful conquests
As the sunsets only to be replaced by a full moon
Remembering so much, yet so little

Dare not wave the punctual tissue of farewell
He would reply with an insouciant shrug
Therefore, I drink to you, my brother
Remembering so much, yet so little

For this is a path we will all take
On the Hidden Pasture Trail
It’s all part of nature’s plan
Remembering so much, yet so little

— kenne

Shadows Before the Sky Darkens– Image by kenne

Visitors to this blog know I share images in the series, “Capturing the Moment.” With this posting, I’m beginning a similar series sharing poetry, specifically from my own writings and from the poets that have appeared in the “Writers in Performance” (WIP) Series conducted by the Montgomery County Literary Arts Council since 1993. It wasn’t till our recent move to Tucson that I realize the number of poetry books I have, a collection for which I’m very proud. So, with this posting I will use my blog to occasionally share the WIP writers’ poetry. Not to show any preference, I just reached to the shelves and pulled down a book. The book selected was Different Hours by Stephen Dunn. Stephen presented at WIP November 1, 2000. Here’s the poem I selected from this book of poetry:

Before The Sky Darkens

Sunsets, incipient storms, the tableaus
of melancholy — maybe these are
the Saturday night-events
to take your best girl to. At least then
there might be moments of vanishing beauty
before the sky darkens,
and the expectation of happiness
would hardly exist
and therefore might be possible.

More and more you learn to live
with the unacceptable.
You sense the ever-hidden God
retreating even farther,
terrified or embarrassed.
You might as well be a clown,
big silly cloths, not evidence of desire.

That’s how you feel, say, on a Tuesday.
Then out of the daily wreckage
comes an invitation
with your name on it. Or more likely,
that best girl of yours offers you,
once again, a small local kindness.

You open your windows to good air
blowing in from who knows where,
which you gulp and deeply inhale
as if you have a death sentence. You have.
All your life, it seems, you’ve been appealing it.
Night sweats and useless stratagem. Reprieves.

— Stephen Dunn