I felt helpless as a baby bird.
I yearned for the sun to flood the terrain
of my heart, the beat of the wind to overtake
my wakefulness, for Spring to hurry
its pace with daffodils and blossoms,
to speed its edge into summer
while ice and cold vanished
from a world a sparrow could then love.
But false hope caused me to blunder again
like an injured bird struggling to fly.
My obsessive mind cried to the wind:
save me from corrosive thoughts polluting
the soil around barren trees, from lone
wishes striking like lightning
on the rough landscape of this earth.
Forgive me for presumption,
for wanting to halt the bitter air
the rain-drenched ground,
for wanting to have all the moments
in the passing hours bend to my will.
My only wish: to be cradled in Your Arms,
soothing my emptiness with Your Light.
Unpardon me but I relent it boldly;
For it is far ahead, if I can be sure of it,
And far it is, that my hallucination be valid,
And hallucination it is, as it should be,
And however, unlike itself, mysterious, unknown, and untested,
So it be foreseen in my tireless search.
Early Works is an exhaustive compilation of the first decade of the poems and stories of Z.B.McClure. Included are family photos, rare personal photos, photos of 1st draft manuscripts of many of his early poems. Also some biography and memoir materia
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For it is far ahead, if I can be sure of it,
And far it is, that my hallucination be valid,
And hallucination it is, as it should be,
And however, unlike itself, mysterious, unknown, and untested,
So it be foreseen in my tireless search.