B. Royce

The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

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Holiest

Snowflakes swirling oh, so free

And oh, so lightly land;

Your hair, it wears a crown of thorns

That dies away so grand.

For God is not inside your head,

Nor grim-mouthed red-tailed saint,

And foolish prayer lies fully dead

Beneath your red lips' paint.

No angel sits upon your tongue

To still your life-love speech,

Which proves that you have kept you young

Beyond tradition's reach.

True pureness of desire does shine

Upon your throat so fair

And guilty cross has sunk to pine

It could not clasp you there.

Your parents made you go to church,

You knelt, but not in soul;

No ghost was in your mental search,

Your perch was self-control.

Now in the world and on your own

You're more than atheist---

Won lover of this life alone

That sun and cloud have kissed.

Snowflakes swirling oh, so free

And oh, so lightly land;

Your hair, it wears a crown of thorns

That dies away so grand!

________________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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The Whole World

I see you in each bird, each flower, each tree;

I feel your arms in wave-crests of the sea;

Your fingers pull my hair in breeze's rush,

Your lips upon my lips in starlight's hush.

The earth beneath my feet---your steady walk;

The searchlight of your gaze---in summer's sun;

The mountains hold your satisfying talk

And all their slopes slant toward me like you run.

I sing your name; deep canyons make more dear

Each loving double syllable I hear.

Imagination draws your face so true

I turn about---and everywhere see you.

But now you're here all being's up and died,

Or else it's you---the whole world at my side!

__________________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Joy Ascending

The start of Spring is starting,

Each leaf from bud departing;

The rain is pelting the snow that's melting,

Sweet grasses seek the sky!

The heart of life is beating

In lips of love repeating,

"I'm out of lonely now you're my only;

Let's kiss cold pain goodbye!"

And up through all things growing,

And in our knowledge knowing,

Is joy awaking for joyous taking,

And we'll not let it die!

Sheer ecstasy is cleaner

Than dear things near blown greener

And birds out-winging with all their singing

For our love making fly!

In joy of joy ascending

With triumph never ending,

Our love is blessing our joy's caressing

And we'll not let it die!

___________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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The Secret Petals

At end of day, in dark'ning hours,

When winds are still and closed are flowers,

I sit outside beside the tree

And hear the song you sing to me.

Yet it is not for me you sing,

But for yourself, just practicing;

You don't know I am here at all,

Within the dark, behind the wall.

Behind the wall, beside the tree,

Upon a bench I sit for me,

And take in true the best of you

To carry it the whole night through.

For in my sleep your voice I dream;

I seem to float on your pure stream;

And when I wake in bright'ning hours

I'm overjoyed from hearing flowers.

Sing on, sing on, perfect your tone;

Make each phrase yours, and yours alone.

I'll interrupt you not at all,

Beside low tree, behind dark wall.

Behind the wall, within the night,

I'll guard your spirit's singing light,

Let no one trespass while I'm here,

Let no one mar the bars I hear.

So right, and so complete, so free,

So beautiful, I all but see

The rosy bud that spreads apart

The secret petals of your art.

Sing on, song on, one minute more!

This hour goes so fast before!

Yet I am happy, having heard

Such beauty in each soaring word.

____________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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