Steven Federle

Freshman - 605 Points (1951 / Cincinnati Ohio)

Real - Poem by Steven Federle

I look out my window
and see what is real.

Trees, bark encrusted,
rough my hands; cool
leaves, cherry blossoms,
white and vibrant, writhe
in the bee-blurred light.

Yes, these things
are real,

and yet,

turning inward,
to our secret room,

I find you

waiting,
breathing,

real.


Poet's Notes about The Poem

The way to find the real 'world' is not merely to measure and observe what is outside us, but to discover our own inner ground. For that is where the world is, first of all: in my deepest self. Thomas Merton. Contemplation in A World of Action

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Poem Edited: Wednesday, April 18, 2012


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