the esoteric poem

the words popped 
in sunlight sparkles like . . . 
freshly uncorked champagne

and, indeed, I was left  
somewhat, light-headed 
in the mysterious place where

I had been led, 
along intricate pathways, 
passed secret chambers

to a room with many doors 
to be opened 
– or not –

and while I sat 
contemplating 
which way to go

wondering:
about the architect 
of this beautiful labyrinth

and marvelling: 
at what had been created 
with such poetry

I allowed myself
to bide there for a bit, 
for I was hidden

and the world was bathed in luminescence

notes:  pictured is The Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden, in the midst of Vancouver's bustling Chinatown. It is the first ever Chinese garden built outside of China and is a model of a Ming Dynasty scholar's home.  In 2011, the Garden was named one of the "Top Ten City Gardens in the World" by National Geographic in their publication "Secret Journeys of a Lifetime".
 
Additional photos of this lovely garden can be viewed by hitting the 2013 post button on the right of this blog and going back to Tuesday, April 23, 2013 and Wednesday, April 24, 2013.

photo:  Esoteric Poem in the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Garden – W. Bourke

© 2014 Wendy Bourke

Too late wise and too soon dead - A Triolet

(A triolet in iambic tetrameter)

The drizzle rainfall wept forlorn: 

Upon the hour of his death 

As if the whole world stopped to mourn 

The drizzle rainfall wept forlorn 

Brokenhearted, lost, careworn 

In aching stabs of jagged breath 

The drizzle rainfall wept forlorn 

Upon the hour of his death.

The journey short, though it seemed long:

Too late wise, and too soon dead

The way, not clearly right – nor wrong

The journey short, though it seemed long

The passion, neither weak – nor strong

The loving words, that went unsaid 

The journey short, though it seemed long

Too late wise, and too soon dead.

The drizzle rainfall wept forlorn:

Too late wise, and too soon dead 

The bond perceived, as it was torn

The drizzle rainfall wept forlorn

The loss, more than a heart could mourn

Regret:  more than her tears could shed

The drizzle rainfall wept forlorn . . .
Upon the hour of his death.

notes:  the title for this triolet in three stanzas, is from an expression a German professor I knew, would often utter (to humorous effect):  zu spät klug - zu früh tot, which I gather means: too late smart – too soon dead. Often those words have come back to me.   So very true, about so many things in life.

After considerable thought, I have decided to take a bit of poetic license in the last line of the third stanza.  It, of course should be:  Too late wise, and too soon dead.  And yet: Upon the hour of his death, kept calling to me and I simply, like it better this way.  Smiles.

photo:  Too soon dead - W. Bourke

© 2014 Wendy Bourke