Ph: Love: How Pale The Poem - An Echo Poem (1) Poem by Brian Johnston
Ph: Love: How Pale The Poem - An Echo Poem (1)
Are poems lovely as night's stars?
Aren't all more fireflies viewed in jars?
*
*
Faint points of light man barely sees
now (gift of Science) galaxies,
are strung on necklaces like beads.
Star deaths the birth, spread all life's seeds.
So far away (more distant still)
define our universe and fill
it to its width, dark's depth, light's height.
Some may exceed the speed of light (2)
if space, itself, perhaps, expands -
somehow, some way! But what commands?
*
*
Man's dreams are blessed with mystery!
Was God required to dream first tree?
Brian Johnston
January 27th in 2023
Poet's Note:
My poem was inspired by Joyce Kilmer's well known poem 'Trees.'
(1) Echo Poem: A poem that reflects the form or content of another poem (or both) .
(2) Modern physics has long been perplexed by a phenomena known as the 'Red Shift' which first revealed that, in general, the more distant a star is from us, the faster it is receding away from us. But more recent research (over time) has also revealed that
the speed with which stars are receding is accelerating. One way to explain this is the idea that the space between the stars is expanding. If that is true, then more distant stars might disappear because their light can no longer reach us. What seems to be an
apparent edge of the universe might not be real. The most distant stars might 'Wink Out' not because they are not there, but because, as they gradually exceed the speed of light (in relation to us) , their light can no longer ever reach us! How fun!
TREES
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain,
[Whose colors change as season's turn
though green garbs cling to firs, some fern.] (3)
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
BY JOYCE KILMER (1913)
(3) The bracketed lines [] are an addition. If Mr. Kilmer had only known that I was going to honor him with my Echo Poem in 100 + years I feel sure that he would have extended his poem to help make my 'echo' of his work an even more perfect match with seven couplets.
In truth though, I think his self-deprecation in the next to last line a bit over the top.
'My poem's womb's the heart of me, '
is modestly and freely proffered here.
Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. Great stuff.
Because it is free for me to do, and because I enjoyed Kilmer's so much, and because Brian's was 'not bad', I give 5 stars. Why is it that PH, recently, has not shown stars (red voting-on-poem stars) on all poems' pages? ? ? . bri : )
I like Brian's Poet's Notes (thanks) . He often (these days) refers to physics and God, two things which may help to sustain him in his OLD AGE! ! ! : )
I'm glad he's not reading this poem to me over 'the phone', as he sometimes reads a poem or two of his to me over the phone. I like Kilmer's poem more than Brian's.
I like the title (though I'm not SURE what it means) , I like the rhyming, I like the poet (as a friend, and for some of his more down-to-Earth poems from his past.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/28/2024 7:19:43 PM # 1.0.0.1119
'Aren't all more fireflies viewed in jars? * *' ....Is THAT what you MEANT to type? ?
The Title 'How Pale the Poem' is my own self-deprecating view of my own poetry but all poetry in fact! How pale a candle is ANY poem compared to the dimmest star?