They are gazing at God's windows.
óCzech proverb describing the easy
indolence of the loafing, vagabond
heroes of Czech folk songs
I sit in the garden listening
to my inner voice. What
could my inner voice be saying?
The birds are singing, says my inner voice,
the storks are nesting. My inner voice
looks up at the sky. The moon
is waning, it says, the sun
is setting. My inner voice
says nothing about ambition, nothing
about love. It's been a beautiful day,
it says, the moles are tunneling
through the earth. A scent of honeysuckle
wafts between the trees. It's getting dark,
says my inner voice. It's time
to go to bed.
No Hurry: Poems 2000-2012
Copyright © 2012 by Michael Blumenthal
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission