
In Need of Saying
by Douglas John Imbrogno
Seen from a high hilltop, the
lake in the distance, surrounded by
a plush-green shag rug of forest,
looks like a puddle. No house,
no road in sight. Only
the clouds, passing in
sequence, bifurcated by
sky’s blue, have anything
at all to explain.
+ + +
I am on a porch, captain
of a green ocean. Wasps patrol
the boundary lands. In
whispering winds, conversing
in high tulip poplars, I hear
poems from another tongue
I can’t decode. Yet whose
murmur and metre
echo in some native
quantum tongue
only my cells
will understand.
+ + +
The things most in need
of saying come to me when
I am far from pen & paper,
in quarter-lotus
communion with grass
and forested detachment.
Seem less like bromide,
more like sutra. To be lived.
Not commemorated & preserved.
march21.2022 | re-worked 2006 journal entry
4 comments
Commemorated and preserved though to invite the reader to half lotus communion. Keep
writing so we may learn and reflect.
Deal, sister. _/\_
Like.
Thank you, Errol!