GEORGE REITNOUR
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Preparing for Rebirth
Speaking the words of their gods to seamen,
Lost in your fury,
I command them to throw me in
Where a whale for awhile may obscure me,
Safe from my success.
[369]
Socrates at Rose Hall
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels,
but have not love . . .
-- St. Paul
Calm me before I ask how I may say
"Part sea!" "Go clouds!" "Eyes . . . see!"
For quiet must souls, striving, stay
To find the ever-moving place of peace:
The place where love, freely
Mediating man and destiny--
Fire of the heart embracing one's own way--
Stirs words in memory of goodness, justice, truth, beauty.
[370]
Wind Surfing
Know this . . . you'll know it all:
Without faith your sail will fall.
Try! Hold the sail with all your might!
If you can't learn to lean in ways
That you can't lean on land
Your sail will fall.
Arching back at
Forty five degrees--half past one--
Only the wind saves you--only the wind and
Giving water allow the board its plowing forward.
[371]
Activity, Purpose, Memory
He piles stones.
His purpose: not yet known. And when it is
He'll have forgotten where they're piled.
[372]
Destiny's Things
You can also find your way at inventory time,
That winter day when you update your list entitled
Things That Surround Me, subtitled
Things With Which I Surround Myself,
And change the headings to say:
(a) complete description of the thing;
(b) all of the uses of the thing;
(c) all of my memories of the thing, or:
(i) how I came to
possess the thing;
(ii) why I came to
keep the thing;
(iii) what occurred
because of the thing; and
(iv) people affected
by the thing.
[373]
MINUTES
OF
THE MEETING
OF
THE SUPERVISORS
OF
THE TOWNSHIP
OF
THE COUNTY
OF
THE COMMONWEALTH
OF
THE
|
Big old snapping turtle snuggled in the muck,
Moving her snaky head slow, turning
The glazed eyes to and fro, waiting.
Blow-cheeked bullfrog sitting on the bank,
Looking at the snapper, waiting.
Minnows leap, the walleye grins
But doesn't leave the water, waiting.
Beaver slaps his paddle tail in warning,
Dives, resurfaces and looks around, waiting.
Raccoon sits on haunches, waiting.
Owl sits in her tree, waiting.
Everyone waiting for me to shut up and sit--
Sit down.
[374]
Morning Glories
The violet song streams earthward, its after-imaged source
Infusing those celestial strains with answers
To each question that the morning glories ask.
Still, there are always more questions to cover a task.
Insistent, vines climb higher, asking
Till the answers sought stop coming
And flowers fall earthward, grasping for easier callings.
String wires, build arbors, guide the searching green
Fingers onto the known paths, lest your vine
Find wrong branches and race irretrievably
Into brambles. Catch them early--twist from the tip gently--
From the farthest point--back to the stem;
Redirect each length to race and stretch its length along the
wire;
Then, watch their flowerings enhance the clenched bunch of
error.
Or place the sturdy arbor, string the wire,
Saying, "That's enough!" Should this be your desire,
Be prepared to tiptoe stand on more than one hot August day
Unwinding strays that--when you were not looking--got away.
[375]
Fishing
I have gone from the whining
Of radioed songsters--
Gone from the flashing
Of televised sell that illumines
The spring green leafy underside
Of sugar maple night
In the great development
Between the dying seas--
I have gone from the greedy clutch
And bittersweet smatter--
And when no one asks,
Just tell all of them, in a whisper
None will hear, I am in awe,
Fishing in the deep lake
Between the mountains, fishing
For the call of my heart.
[376]
George Reitnour was born in 1957. He lives in Chester County, Pennsylvania
where his family extends back many generations. Reitnour attended Allegheny
College and Duquesne University School of Law. After 17 years in private
practice, he closed his law office in 2000 and became Vice President of
Private Wealth Management at Investors Trust Company. |
