The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 2/15/10

[BlueIris]

"Mother, Among the Dustbins"

Mother, among the dustbins and the manure
I feel the measure of my humanity, an allure
As of the presence of God, I am sure

In the dustbins, in the manure, in the cat at play,
Is the presence of God, in a sure way
He moves there. Mother, what do you say?

I too have felt the presence of God in the broom
I hold, in the cobwebs in the room,
But most of all in the silence of the tomb.

Ah! but that thought that informs the hope of our kind
Is but an empty thing, what lies behind? --
Naught but the vanity of a protesting mind

That would not die. This is the thought that bounces
Within a conceited head and trounces
Inquiry. Man is most frivolous when he pronounces.

Well Mother, I shall continue to think as I do,
And I think you would be wise to do so too,
Can you question the folly of man in the creation of God?
Who are you?

--Stevie Smith

[Tuesday Afternoon]

1. thanks and Good Morning

:donut: :hi:

[BlueIris]

2. Hello.

I confess, this may not be the best collection of poetry threads this week. I feel a cleansing rash of graphic language warnings coming on.

[Tobin S.]

3. Yes, you can question, but it doesn't do any good.

Is this a poem about Mother Nature? We do tend to ignore Her in favor of a world beyond death. Seems to fit, but I'm not too good with poetry most of the time.