The Meaning
I thought I found You in goldfinch’s song,
bright hymn of joy from harp-like throat
the color of the sun.
I thought I felt You in the cool morning breeze
that combed the field’s wild hair
and ran soft fingers through all the leaves.
I thought I saw You in the fawn’s deep eyes
dark pools of wonder that made me sigh
for the truth that they embraced.
I thought I touched You in the orbs of dew
that glistened like tears and felt like grace,
which cooled and cleansed my fingertips.
I thought I tasted you in the huckleberries’ blood.
The sweet surrender of their dark flood upon my tongue
filled me with something that felt like joy.
Those mouthfuls of You that taught me how strong
love can be.
But none of it was You as much as it was me
trying to fit eternity into one morning’s majesty,
trying to hold glory in hands that could never cradle fire,
could never understand that truth is so much more than desire,
that holding on is letting go, that knowing You is not to know,
that emptiness is the only bed where perfect wholeness will
lay its head.
P.C. Scheponik, is lifelong poet who lives with his wife, Shirley, and their shizon, Bella. His writing celebrates nature, the human condition, and the metaphysical mysteries of life. He has published five collections of poems: His work has appeared in numerous literary journals He was a finalist in Adelaide Anthology Contest 2017, 2018, 2019, and 2020. A 2019 Pushcart Prize nominee, his sixth collection, Seeing, Believing, and Other Things, is scheduled for publication in spring 2021.