Trust
I look into the face of strangers
and they’re not strangers anymore.
For part of my own consciousness
connects with theirs and theirs with mine
and we attract, repel each other
but always
we feel the other’s presence within us.
The friend, the foe, the stranger
is really part of us
and as we trust ourselves,
so will all others sense this trust
and surely, swiftly, lovingly
respond with their own trust in us.
We are each other’s mirror.
Thanksgiving
Our hearts,
like coffers of rich harvest,
must first be filled:
filled to the brim and overflowing
with such love
for All That Is,
that we can trust
that all is meant to help
and not to hinder,
that always good abides,
then surely,
like warm sunshine
and cool refreshing rain,
our thanks
are needed nourishment
and shared with us again.
5-15-1986
A Holiday Wish
Close to
two thousand times
we dance
the grand old pomp
and circumstance
one month of every year.
A rose
in winter’s ice and snow,
December-bold,
is just as old.
I’d say, in June
the rose blooms, too,
and every time a child is born
love is born.
It’s easy to love
when love is in style
and when there’s a reason.
Let’s love each other holiday style
all through the year
and out of season
THE SOLITARY EAGLE
Dedicated to
RUBURT
In the fall of 1984, I, Ute,
witnessed an event.
Though dreaming, I am wide awake and stand upon a mountain.
I lift my eyes. The blue of sky above me,
against it, clearly visible,
one eagle
flying high. He flies in circles.
I keep watch;
and as I watch
dense clouds begin to form
and cluster ’round and blackly shroud
that mountain top.
Oh, the futility of breaking free!
And yet, this eagle tries.
He flies so high, his circles ever wider,
he’s lost from sight for minutes at a time,
his flight path,
the great spiral of the sky.
I dedicate this poem to my husband, Haigaz Kaboolian,
who arrived at Ellis Island from Armenia,
and to our first born, our daughter , Diane,
who was born the morning after our first Fourth of July celebration
as a married couple
The form of a sentence
is either a compliment to its content
or it complements that content,
or it is, or does, both.
In a sentence of poise and precision
each word has its proper position
from which it cannot be budged.
Ute's Poetry and Musings 