Wayne Goodling October Guest Poet

Terry Lyons, a photographer, once asked me to identify my masterpiece.  He then went on to explain that one’s masterpiece – whether music, sculpture, writing – is not necessarily one’s best work; rather it is the piece which best shows what the artist wants to accomplish with their art.

As soon as he asked the question, I immediately knew the title of my masterpiece:  Dawn to Dust.

Dawn to Dust

Walt Whitman showed me

how to look and sometimes

what to see:  My friends:

splendid leaves of grass,

young, wet, and supple
catching early morning's dew,

unwilling to remain immobile
Shoulder to shoulder

pushing and lifting
boulders and lumber. 

gasping for air with sweat. 

I know old men with wives

and careers and grandchildren

I find men younger than I

with more body than they want
and parts that no longer get hard

I see strong women

passionately rearing young children

And Mothers in the church

preaching to sisters

I see street corner children taunting each other
Almost unaware of where they are

Ignorant innocence of who they are

And grandfathers who come home

to bury their daughters' sons. 

And sometimes men

who have not numbed themselves
whose example explains what might be

willing to listen and sometimes

(Oh, sweet Jesus!) able to see

I find those without careers or possessions
Who remember how to build and lift and lumber

Afternoon remains hot sweat

dirt and dust with broad smiles,
anticipation, and friends:

splendid leaves of grass

both damp and dry
rest and stand together –
comrades who have fought

their own battles,
sometimes dying young

Memories of morning dew  –

Everything transformed and precious

2013

Coffee

White snow with morning sun

shows sidewalks shoveled clean

from the kitchen window I see

crows and a squirrel

my day has begun

with breakfast dishes put away

and in a few minutes

my friend will be here for coffee

2021

After the Storm

Two days after

the last blizzard snow,

an audaciously cocky columbine

stands erect

just to make sure I see

its green stem

and spreading green leaves.

2023 

Luke 1:26-47

When Gabriel to Virgin did proclaim

That nothing is impossible to God,

Our Lady then prepared herself to go

On visitation with Elizabeth,

Who heard the greeting come from Mary’s lips

With listening so intent that angel light

Revealed a mystery of God to man;

A mystery that can again be heard

By he or she who takes the time to stop –

Yes stop.  Atune the ear to voice within

And know that all thing possible are here

In darkened daylight’s silence of the night

With winter’s heart that yearns as it doth wait

For promised King to enter through the gate.

2018

Getting Older

I am man...It’s who I am

I am white...That’s quite all right

I am free...Okay by me

I am gay...And that’s okay

I am strong...But not for long

For truth be told...I’m getting old

I’ve lost my hair...And I don’t care

‘Cause I am me...That’s who I’ll be          

2009

Wayne Goodling reads frequently at the Poetry Den. Link below to find out more about the Poetry Den and how to attend.