poems by James R. Rhodes
Irish Violin
Man, who could not sing his tears
or cry his pain,
made a violin.
Man, wrung exquisite to the mood
by one violin
sobbing the solem beauty of music,
the soul's refrain,
winged joy
and sadness pain
At the Same Time
Love is the wild and free gift
of being willing to become absoultely
vulnerable;
Supreme gift, each to each given
and received
in a singing joy that, to me,
carries a deep sensing of
tears and awe and sorrow,
all at the same time.
To One Afraid
Darkness can be a friend;
be not afraid of the dark,
for darkness is kind to welling tears
and hides the worried heart
in its uncritical arms;
it bring the only privacy
some people ever have
and softly comforts broken-hearted and
contrite souls.
Darkness hides the little hunted things
in woodland haunts and trails.
Give me darkness
in which to see myself
and not fear of others seeing;
be not afraid of the dark
for darkness is kind.
Who?
Who made you
Made you well.
It's important
That you don't
Go to pieces.