Saturday, May 1st , 2004 6:40 p.m. pdt

poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

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"First Year " A lifetime The culmination of one half century For a brief moment, The contemplative promise of another yet to come Still relatively healthy, and sometimes the concept of age simply disappears Apocalyptic harbingers on the doorstep, But inside this next half century, no harbingers reside. The circle has grown tight, and with it comfort laughs at circumstance The more one exponds, the less one understands. The more one knows, the less one realizes. Childless regretful Love stays outside with the harbingers If one tricks oneself into thinking one is the same As in the first part of the century, Then one misses the point of one hundred years of history Windup routines woundup calamity Experience and memory make strange bedfellows, And the pillow fell off the bed long ago. Words serve the same purpose, And with no purpose, rather than to expound, Understanding less is more. First year. Rebirth and renewal run round the maypole again, Spring to Summer, Fall to Winter, The circle turns around again for the first time. The leaf falls from the tree, And the acorn becomes the oak in time. A long time. For a brief moment, Shining hopes and blighted fears comingle with the universality of oneness The first year of the rest of one's life Cliched profundity Tragedy, Pain, Loss, Ecstasy, Laughter, A winning hand Everything changes Everything stays the same And a half century ends And a new one begins again, At some point one passes from the equation, And joins the other ones The other centuries of thought and memory.

2004

copyright 1999-2004 by Michael F. Nyiri ElectricPoetry AllThingsMike