Time in the Full of Empty


these are times for vases
I’ll leave vacant
and not cut the roses lilies daffodils
blooming in my garden

 I’ll feed house crickets to the song finch
for this is its molting season
it will sing again … or die
like the crickets

once a dove flew against my window
to drop hurt … still breathing
I caged and healed it
watched it orient and fly
watched it taloned by a diving hawk

oh,  now is time in the full of empty
when smiles are merely stretch-ed lips
and fog trails from my fingertips
and I wear his slippers

 I shall sit upon my lawn
close to the roses lilies daffodils
and breath the fragrance
of invisible of presence



Bonnie Marshall

Artwork by Qi Baishi

18 thoughts on “Time in the Full of Empty

  1. There is something vaguely disquieting about this poem, Bonnie, summarized well by the words used in the title, “now is time in the full of empty.” There is a feeling of wistful melancholy, of ill-disguised pain, and of loss. Yet there also seems to be a slight glimmer of hope, a tiny kernel of optimism, a sense that life goes on and that healing can occur.

    1. What a lovely transcendental thought, Jana! The poem reflected my dove and hawk experience in 1986 … there was a white bird flying and then hawk and empty sky. Only nature. Smiles, dear friend.

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