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Showing posts from October, 2020

Unpublished Poetry Series: The Field-Watcher

  The Field-Watcher When in the shadows of the passing day A seat is found, asleep in calm Soundness, as activity of the mind Cease, and the slow and wavy dreams Of reality vanish by timeless Art, he who observes the secrets Of the fast-forgotten world finds purpose Insensible to sleep, remnant Of future life.  The fullness of the stars Softly infuse the distant sky With rays of obscure light, the horizon Ever holds the dawn in glimmer. Douglas Thornton 2018

A Poet's Journal: October 19, 2014

  October 19th, 2014 For the past two or three days now, evening has revealed an unexpected joy as it passes into the twilight hour.  The season of migration has come, and I have taken up this passing relationship with things that fly above, to better know them, lest I become a stranger to myself, knowing little of my surroundings.  Yet there are already many dilemmas about which birds I actually see, if they are migratory or not, and their flying formation.  For it is true that there are so many worlds of understanding one on top of the other, and us only living in one of them, that if we ponder the variety of anything that passes before us daily, it seems so far-fetched to believe that we could transcend them with one glance and, if only for a moment, feel what any other may feel just by looking at them.  But this is the most authentic part of our observation; what we see creates the world we live in, and if close enough, may be given the ability to know them, while becoming adept to