Smoke and Leaves

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

A mountain cone quite bare of trees on one

Side seems to know a secret totem, true.

You read it if you will.  Of course the sun

Is part of it; with wings the pied sky blue

Plays just as much its piece.  At night a sky

Of darkness which you do not see waits still

Another wing with moon and stars, the high

Chords waiting for your mind and heart.  Riff’s chill

Of truth requires your soul’s respect yet from

Some otherwhere some sort of fume appears,

Perhaps.  It is some temple’s smoke, the sum

Of meditation holding other spheres.

  This other side shows leaves that shine in youth

    And somewhere is the glowing total truth.

©  Phillip Whidden