Tag: joy

things I cannot tell you

I cannot tell you, for example,
that I am resting against the ache
of not seeing you rise in the morning
to sip your coffee at the window

or that the prospect of you
is the hidden sun in my throat
that glows, that pulls roots, and yes,
I would joyfully plant myself beside you

and also, I cannot tell you
that you are my favorite kind of ‘yes,’
my affirmation that the mountain
will not fall from beneath me

and that the whole of my skin
sleeps until you are near enough
to wake it – that all of me resides
inside almost, maybe, not quite

© Sarah Whiteley

pretending flowers

light dropped
from a great height
makes no sound still

words now
would be thin and
near to useless

hush, since
it’s futile to
say you are my joy,

and watch
the hummingbird search
the warm, red bricks

pretending
flowers where
there are none

© Sarah Whiteley

payment

my knowledge of you
is not free

I pay for it, as one does
with any passage –

in silences,
in glances held

in the avid awareness of you alone
amongst the crowd,

and in relinquishing
the oft-sharp joy light must feel

in falling upon
that most hallowed of curves –

that pale, beloved arch –
the back of your sweet neck

yet, I am paid back a hundredfold
with the charm of knowing

© Sarah Whiteley

like the lake

like the lake, I am much less talkative
than say the creek cantering east,
teasing the low-hanging ferns to trembling

we lakes embrace rather than chase,
swallow whole those stones that settle
to long years of mute stillness

we are content with the stir and shift of winds,
with the lined glide of a pair of loons,
returning to the calm lull of a cat-tailed inlet

© Sarah Whiteley

Joy (repost)

the good days
Freude,
are those days that
schoener Goetterfunken
in spite of the noise
Tochter aus Elysium,
the naggings
wir betreten
the sagging weight
feuertrunken,
of worry, responsibility
Himmlische,
the ignorance
dein Heiligtum.
and uncarefulness
deine Zauber
of others
binden wieder
the sometimes blatant
was der Mode
disregard, disrepair
Schwert geteilt
of how the world around
Bettler werden
chooses to conduct itself
Fuerstenbrueder

the good days
wo dein sanfter
are those days
Fluegel weilt
I can’t hear any of you
Freude!
for the Beethoven
Freude!
blasting joyously unrestrained
Freude!
in my head

© Sarah Whiteley
originally posted 2/17/2009
Thanks to a dear friend for reminding me just how much I love to blast the Beethoven!