I left you in the morning, And in the morning glow You walked a way beside me To make me sad to go. Do you know me in the gloaming, Gaunt and dusty gray with roaming? Are you dumb because you know me not, Or dumb because you know?
All for me? And not a question For the faded flowers gay That could take me from beside you For the ages of a day? They are yours, and be the measure Of their worth for you to treasure, The measure of the little while That I’ve been long away.
O hushed October morning mild, Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild, Should waste them all. The crows above the forest call; Tomorrow they may form and go. O hushed October morning mild, Begin the hours of this day slow. Make the day seem to us less brief. Hearts not averse to being beguiled, Beguile us in the way you know. Release one leaf at break of day; At noon release another leaf; One from our trees, one far away. Retard the sun with gentle mist; Enchant the land with amethyst. Slow, slow! For the grapes’ sake, if they were all, Whose leaves already are burnt with frost, Whose clustered fruit must else be lost— For the grapes’ sake along the wall.
Sabino Canyon Panorama after Monsoon Rains, #2 (August 9, 2016) Image by kenne
They cannot scare me with their empty spaces Between stars – on stars where no human race is. I have it in me so much nearer home To scare myself with my own desert places.
Now that I have more time to search for a source of inspiration larger than or outside of myself, I desire to generate creative expression my combining poetry and visual art. It is not always easy to tease out the imagination in words or a visual image, but when combined one may be able to create analogous worlds. Edward Hirsch, in Transforming Vision stated that this process is similar to what Robert Frost called “counter-love, original response.”
The Most of It
He thought he kept the universe alone; For all the voice in answer he could wake Was but the mocking echo of his own From some tree–hidden cliff across the lake. Some morning from the boulder–broken beach He would cry out on life, that what it wants Is not its own love back in copy speech, But counter–love, original response. And nothing ever came of what he cried Unless it was the embodiment that crashed In the cliff’s talus on the other side, And then in the far distant water splashed, But after a time allowed for it to swim, Instead of proving human when it neared And someone else additional to him, As a great buck it powerfully appeared, Pushing the crumpled water up ahead, And landed pouring like a waterfall, And stumbled through the rocks with horny tread, And forced the underbrush—and that was all.
— Robert Frost
PS: I find inspiration in visual images, whether my own or that of others, from which I try to blend visual and verbal eloquence. One of the best examples of inspiration from visual art is Wallace Stevens “Man with the Blue Guitar” on Pablo Picasso’s “The Old Guitarist.”
Golden Columbine — Image by kenne
Sunset — Image by kenne
Tree Stump On Mt. Lemmon — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Pipevine Swallowtail Butterfly Photo Artistry by kenne
Yellow-eyed Junco — Image by kenne
Windswept Grasslands in the Santa Catalina Mountains — Image by kenne
Sabino Canyon Panorama after Monsoon Rains, #2 (August 9, 2016) Image by kenne
Lupine Blue Butterfly On Cranesbill Wildflower (August 5, 2016)– Image by kenne
“Nothing Gold Can Stay” — Image by kenne
