in transition

for WCW

I wish I understood the beauty

in leaves falling. To whom

are we beautiful

as we go?

I lie in the field

still, absorbing the stars

and silently throwing off

their presence. Silently

I breathe and die

by turns.

He was ripe

and fell to the ground

from a bough

out where the wind

is free

of the branches 

~ David Ignatow (1914-1997)

from Against the Evidence: selected poems 

...

Attempting To Answer David Ignatow’s Question

I wish I understood the beauty

in leaves falling. To whom

are we beautiful

as we go?

We are beautiful to the Mother as we go.

There are mysterious roads in jade that

Old men follow,

Routes that migratory birds walk on,

The circle dances

Iron filings do,

The things we cannot say.

Salmon find their way to old beds;

Sleeping bodies are not alone.

~ Robert Bly 

 from Holes That Crickets Have Eaten in Blankets

photo by Eliot Porter