Poem 94: More blazing than the sun

The song I heard you singing falls more blazing than the sun.
The woodlark in the coppice calls more blazing than the sun.

It’s little things that seem to joy our peace-filled days and yet
any sullen silence quick-galls more blazing than the sun.

Children frolic on back garden lawns with shrieks of laughter,
and then a bee stings one who bawls more blazing than the sun.

Wings of butterflies, rasps of crickets, hung webs of spiders,
the ordered world of ants, enthrall more blazing than the sun.

The distant haze of blue, line-dancing mountains row on row
makes late afternoons stop and stall more blazing than the sun.

The tiny flower, unnoticed, hidden, nameless, lost, unknown,
outshines the fields of peonies tall, more blazing than the sun.

And Bruce, his song so incomplete without your voice to sing,
entrusts you hear his words, though small, more blazing than the sun.

If the above link doesn’t play, then try clicking HERE!

30 thoughts on “Poem 94: More blazing than the sun

    1. Cloven Ruminant Post author

      Thanks João Maria. Much appreciated as always. I think I was goaded on to do something by a friendly blogger! (Incidentally I’m not going to bother you with an email until after your exams).

      Liked by 1 person

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      1. João-Maria

        Oh, no, Bruce, it’s fine! I have an Literary Criticism exam next Monday, and after that, only one more exam on the 23rd. It’s English exam, so it won’t be too difficult. You are welcome to email me after Monday, or now and I’ll reply after Monday, but either way, it’s of no bother at all.

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            1. Cloven Ruminant Post author

              I’m impressed. There will come a time when perusing the university syllabus, you will suspect you once took some of those papers but can’t exact;y remember which ones. But by then you will be famous.

              Liked by 2 people

              Reply
              1. João-Maria

                That already happens! I just recently read the Portuguese National Exam I took in high school and don’t remember answering a single question, yet I aced the exam back in the day. Which was 2013, mind you.

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                1. Cloven Ruminant Post author

                  I can’t remember the optional subjects I sat exams in at High School – one was English because I remember spouting on about Bertolt Brecht. Then again, I might’ve spouted about Brecht in Science – Galileo and all that.

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  1. umashankar

    That is a surprisingly turn of the wheel. Just when I was expecting a robust serving of homicide, you pen a Ghazal. The opening whisked me away to some distant place inhabited by the solitary singer, woodlark and the poet. The onward journey revels in joys small and huge, happiness and wailing of a child, the wings of a butterfly, rasping of the cricket, and the roll of the mountains in the mellowing afternoon. They are all close and distant at once, suffused with the sadness and joy of the singer, of the poet, more blazing than sun, and any emotion that overpowers the poet. Each couplet reinforces the meditation, but the stunner is yet to come in the closing couplet, the appellation to someone to whom you present this incomplete song. This lack of conclusion is the very pith of life, the continued saga of yearning, unrequited desires.

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  2. John Looker

    Hello Bruce. I enjoyed reading this and hearing your own voice. It’s an extraordinary poem. At first I felt it was a nature poem and your knowing observation of the details of the natural world put me in mind of John Clare. But then I reached the final couplet and the whole poem metamorphosed into something very different. Beautiful and poignant.

    Liked by 1 person

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    1. Cloven Ruminant Post author

      John, your lovely comment made me go back and read my own poem with fresh eyes! Thank you! I hope you had a positive email from Tom – as I did. In fact I went out and bought a bottle of wine to celebrate!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  3. inese

    What a gem of a Ghazal, Bruce! It is so soothing, exactly what I needed to hear today among all the sadness. Thank you for adding your voice record. Like the other commenters, I too thought of Cynthia when listening to the poem. She would love it.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

I delight in having my dull life coloured by your intelligent perceptions, your wit, and your vivacity.

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