Obedience to the world’s business
what is that ?
and what of our nature ?
it should be the simplest of things
This drawing in and out of breath
a voice in tune with our emotions
the beating heart drawn
irresistibly towards love
to observe and to admire
how she moves
within the aura of beauty
What special purpose is ours
other than to be
the embodiment of love ?
John Lyons
Trick or treat
beauty or truth
body and soul
so the voice goes
a magpie perched
on the branch
of an apple tree
pecks at the fruit
and the branch rocks
and the wind rises
through this suburban
universe
Light captured
in autumn colours
a flurry of rusty leaves
falling through
the wintry air
a love so deep
so satisfying
a love to die for
a love that makes
life worth living
The magpie picks
at the sour fruit
will never know
of the joy that runs
through my heart
trick or treat
John Lyons
Physics tells us so much
about our bodies
that they are formed
from restless energies
that movement
is fundamental
to every aspect
of the universe
that our souls
were forged
in the very origins
of time
that expansion
versus contraction
is the developmental
paradox of the whole
of creation
down to the pulsating
chambers of our hearts
and that gravity
is an expression of love
drawing one person
irresistibly
close to another
John Lyons
When was it
Wallace asks
that the particles became
the whole man ?
Whose hand shaped the clay
into what became
the Grecian urn ?
Clay working upon clay
Whose hand hardened it
in the fire
so that it would be there
for all time ?
A breathing human passion
The energy to create
and so direct those energies
to a precise purpose
earth to earthenware
clay to Keats
poet to poetry
truth to beauty
John Lyons
John Lyons
Where you took
your first breath
and all that has
happened since
the laughter
and the tears
those you have
known and loved
your eyes alert
to the slightest
act of tenderness
Where your limbs
first stirred
and where
from time to time
your thoughts return
On each occasion
you feel the same
you feel different
knowing that you too
in spirit and in the flesh
are deeply loved
John Lyons
Today I have
a mind of winter
a heavy frost overnight
has coated the cars
with freezing ice
and the glazed paths
are treacherous
underfoot
as I make my way
down to the station
now is no time to slip
and break a bone
in the darkness
A mind of winter
in which all things
fall back to the earth
trees stripped bare
to reveal hidden nests
a world it would seem
in disarray
in which things end
the only warmth
to be found
in the arms
of the one I love
the one I love
John Lyons
Early in November
the lane opens
into a broad grassy
upland field
of over twenty acres
slightly sloping
to the south
Here I’m accustomed to walk
for sky views and effects
either morning or sundown
Today from this field
my soul is calmed and expanded
beyond description
the whole forenoon
by the clear blue
arching over all
cloudless
only sky and daylight
The autumn leaves
the cool dry air
the faint aroma
crows cawing
in the distance
two great buzzards
wheeling gracefully
and slowly far up there
the occasional murmur
of the wind
through the trees
sometimes quite gentle
sometimes threatening
a gang of farm-laborers
loading cornstalks
in a field in sight
and the patient horses
waiting
Walt Whitman
(adapted by John Lyons from November Boughs, 1888)
