I find it interesting that the crux of the themes referenced in this poem, written quite a few centuries ago, still hold true today; our quest for a harmonious and balanced life remains a goal to strive for. That’s part of what makes history so remarkable; the idea that time progresses, but that the basic human tendencies remain largely the same, is really one to think about. Time seems to be exponential, but the intrinsic humanness of emotions, wants, needs, desires, etc., are as real today as they were eons ago.

The Things that Cause a Quiet Life.

Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey (1516 – 1547).

My friend, the things that do attain
The happy life be these, I find:
The riches left, not got with pain,
The fruitful ground; the quiet mind;

The equal friend; no grudge, no strife;
No charge of rule nor governance;
Without disease, the healthy life;
The household of continuance;

The mean diet, no delicate fare;
True wisdom joined with simpleness;
The night discharged of all care,
Where wine the wit may not oppress;

The faithful wife, without debate;
Such sleeps as may beguile the night;
Contented with thine own estate,
Neither wish death, nor fear his might.

I stare into the stillness of the high eastern sun,
encased in a fragrant cocoon of yellows, blues, and greens;
the wind casts a song upon the horizon like a bow to a string,
and my dreams burst to the clouds, the dust of yesterday kicked out behind
like billowing jet stream-
my soul sheds its fences and wades into the blue,
awash in the strokes of watercolor sunshine glinting off the windows
like steel to flint-
it reminds me of clarity,
of a soul nude with innocence and indifference,
and of the transparency of acknowledgement-
my thoughts drifted like fingertips dipped lazily into a pool of still water,
each ripple a memory,
a desire,
a goal,
a thirst satiated,
a journal entry into the timeworn logbook of the days…
that high eastern sun provides promise,
a stillness amid the chaos,
a blue against the black…
a beginning,
an end,
a song upon the horizon as fragrant to the ears as a bow to
a string*

With you,
the rain pats softer on the windowsill,
and the thunder bellows louder throughout
the breadth of the clouds,
like a lone voice rippling
through the waves of a cavern-
with you,
the lightning weaves tighter around the depth
of the storm, winding like swollen veins
among the pulsing torrent,
the droplets pounding harder against the earth’s
open arms-
with you,
the seconds seem to find their lost intensity,
the hours seem to breathe more clearly,
and the days manage to discover that long elusive
purpose-
with you, the sun nuzzled leaves stand out sharper against the
lush lips of the blue sky,
the blossoms below it ripening richer under its warm embrace-
with you,
the crickets sing louder under the thicket of stars,
the beautiful, repeating simplicity of their song echoing gently amid the cool dark of night,
those stars flickering like candles among the soft glint of moon glow-
with you,
the world is rich with a flavor that rings wonderfully on the tongue-
with you,
the sky is a distant world with lands just waiting to be claimed-
with you,
the mysteries of time tick dutifully on the face of my watch-
with you, I stand proud and tall,
the smile on my lips spread as wide as the broad arms of spring*