Poetry Corner

Clay jug. C.G Jung Tampa Poetry Corner

I Am Not I

I am not I. I am this onewalking beside me whom I do not see,whom at times I manage to visit,and whom at other times

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The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness,some momentary awareness comesAs an unexpected visitor. Welcome and

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The Winter of Listening

No one but me by the fire,my hands burningred in the palms whilethe night wind carrieseverything away outside. All this petty worrywhile the great cloakof

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What is This Thing?

What is this thing driving me?Is it the same instinct that sends the salmonSwimming from the sea to the river to spawn?Or is it similar

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To Know the Dark

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,and find that the dark,

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The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I stoodAnd looked down one as far as

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The Glass Bead Game

We are ready to receive in reverencethe music of the masters, the symphonies of the spheresand invoke in sacred celebrationsthe ancient holy spirits of the

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Seeking Clarity

If each day fallsinside each nightthere exists a wellwhere clarity is imprisoned. We need to sit on the rimof the well of darknessand fish for

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