Song Poem by Ron Dragano


Rating: 5.0

I read the news today - winter is history
A fading memory, blowing away in a warm wind
That's easy on ya, - carrying songs.
Most everybody sings along,
Something inside can't help but sing
Echoing spring's rising tide

Today, buds sprouting, trees leave out lime green,
The birds sing.
Today's sun shines golden, lucent on the green,
The frogs sing.
Today's blue-eyed sky will ripen to wide-eyed, starry night
It's all here - dawnto dusk alight,
The crickets will sing.
I read the news today, oh boy, about a lucky man who didn't
I read that the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi is not by St. Francis
The very prayer my father had hanging on his wall -
"Make me an instrument of your peace…"
Not his. A fact that Franciscans readily acknowledge.
"Too much I and me, " they say."Not enough brothers and sisters,
Too little Jesus and Lords.Not his."

Friday, May 11, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: spring
Dr Antony Theodore 11 May 2018

buds sprouting the birds singing, golden sunshine, the frog, crickets, prayer. make me an instrument of peace...... just such a fine poem with great moral values and reflections. dear poet. thank u. tony

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Scarlett Treat 10 October 2018

Ah, yes, the poem that isn't his...the Monk's, that is....but what about the MAN underneath the monk's robe, the one who lies naked in his bed at night, his mind wandering, searching to be an instrument of God's peace...therein lies the true poet?

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jim hogg 16 May 2018

Missing word ( appears not to have been politically correct... shaft, then, or flash even.. och..

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jim hogg 16 May 2018

...and then one day, a of light, a spark of life, and layered notes of insight.. and the call of something, possibly inexpressible . Was good to catch sight of you again Ron D... Be weel, and may some good things happen to you yet..

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jim hogg 16 May 2018

.. To write about meaning and what's true, to write about what matters now, to write about what's behind appearances amongst the trees and the rivers and the stars and seasons and the rain that falls and the sea that never fills; and the coldness and warmth that enfold our lives, and news that's ancient...

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jim hogg 16 May 2018

I hang about sometimes, you know. At your old house but nobody comes and goes. Must have moved into that log cabin amongst the trees, I guess. High, where the rivers trickle, where the stars sweep down on cloudless nights. To write lesson plans, and remember many things....

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Ron Dragano 17 May 2018

Fookin' amazin'! You still here. Amazing! You still here.

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