Barbara Phaneuf Polycarp's Place

WHY THE WILLOW WEEPS
What have I wept for today???

My heart of stone
The dead and gone
The straits
The traits
The fates
Mankind (no, he’s not)
A woman’s sweet caress
Children everywhere
Those who dare
Those who care
Lebanon
Afghanistan
Pakistan
Kingdom come and Babylon
Cats and dogs
Birds and bees
Slimy green frogs
And castles in the air
Whales and wolves
Men who prey
Those that don’t
Spirits; clean and unclean
God; the unseen
My belief
My disbelief
My grief
Your grief
The world’s grief
That early falling leaf
Prisoners
Pensioners
Patients and wild men too
The naked
The hungry
The bereft
The lost
The found
And those in between
Everything that I have ever seen
The tired
The lonely
And everyone else who has ever been.

Tom Phaneuf

NOTES FROM A FELLOW TRAVELER

A voice called out to me, Thomas! Let me show you my side!
He brought me to a river
a small and winding stream
it was filled with peace and contentment
and surrounded by green.
It was crystalline and pure
and as silent as a dream
with waters that glistened
and all surrounded by green.

There were hawks gliding for my gazing
and an owl's far-a-way scream
and on the banks robins were nesting
and it was surrounded by green.

This was the world I wanted
so simple; so pristine
containing neither involvement nor pain
just surrounded by green.

My worldview was transformed
my life seemingly redeemed
I could have stayed and stayed and stayed
in this world surrounded by green.

But that voice! It would not be still!
No, it would not let me be
to accept my silent repose
instead He said, COME FOLLOW ME!

He brought me to the way
a vale bereft with tears
peopled with the lost and lonely
my home! Oh so many years.

He said, "these are my little ones"
the broken; shattered with many fears
"these are my beloved," these lost and lonely
My friends! Oh so many years.

No longer to melancholy can I flee
for the reason and logic of sages and seers
cannot blind my heart; so lost and lonely
My Lord, my life! Oh so many years.

My gift to you is peace, He said
as he passed along the broken bread
I am Love and you are yeast
We are here to serve the least

And as I take upon His crown of thorns
a rose will blossom amidst the pain
and my tears of woe will turn to joy
as my world magically turns to green.

T.P. Phaneuf

Sandcastles, stones and butterflies

How many years are there in an eon?
The oceans know
Relentlessly; they move
Churning
Turning rock into stone
Stone into sand
Sand into time.........
Time for me
To build castles for dreaming
And make-believing
Underneath blue skies
And silver moons
And long ago starry knights
yet
Dreams are for the sleeping
They don't lie still:
Too elusive to touch
They slip through outstretched hands
Grain by grain
They recede with the tide
Castles no more
The sand returns to the sea
Leaving me entombed
Within the stone
Waiting for the next wave
waiting
waiting
Waiting like the worm
That knows that deep within
It is truly a butterfly
Dormant it waits
For the kiss
That embrace yet to come
That kindles its spirit
To a winged resurrection
While
I remain a stone upon the sand
Prone; I lie knowing
Within my unknowing
That some dreamer's hands
Will fashion me a castle....
.....and set me free!