A State of Grace

What does one do on a morning that begins with Leonard Cohen ? There’s something about his poetry that is unnerving yet so curiously child like. In the film [1] ‘A trip to Montreal with Leonard Cohen in 1965’, directed by Donald Brittain and Don Owen, which is a glimpse into a singular poetic mind, there’s a snippet of an interview in which the interviewer needles Cohen, suggests if he could indeed be a good poet if he did not care about anything. He pushes him to speak of his concerns, if he was bothered by anything, if he cared about anything at all. Cohen very sagely responded that his real concern when he wakes up in the morning is to discover if he is in a state of grace. This state, he explains, is not of having to resolve something as much as it is to approach it with a spirit of balance, ski the slope of chaos, so to speak. This, I felt was a wonderful thought, not the resolution of an issue or the assuming of balance, as much as the question that one begins a day with, ‘Am I in a state of Grace?’

It’s been a wonderful day through an Arboretum; there were friends, tulips and laughter. There was a pileated woodpecker that appeared undisturbed in his singular symphony for an excited audience. There was sunshine and finally a poem after dusk.

Green looks beautiful against blue
On a Saturday, dawn awakens from 
a slumbering in shadows. Saturn rules
the calendar, yes,  but Sol reclaimed
the sky, in  the skein of a conversation,
the shades of an arboretum
Time follows no contrived dictum
A state of grace... I awakened 
in a state of grace. Grace, grace,
he said at early morn, this poet
of fanciful imaginings, skiing the contours
of the days chaos, a slope of road,
a slip of bark and a pileated woodpecker
broke the silence, tunneling
through the skin of dawn.
Through the Tulips
Antiquity held by classic columns,
It's spirits watch through palladian windows,
the sundial never lies about the time of day,
It's grace, only grace that walks you
through the tulips and the green of April,
to the colours of laughter and smiling eyes.
Soul constructions... and must we never forget
the road to those verdant places.
The Verdant and Water


[1] A trip to Montreal with Leonard Cohen in 1965 is a glimpse into a singular poetic mind ~https://aeon.co/videos/a-trip-to-montreal-with-leonard-cohen-in-1965-is-a-glimpse-into-a-singular-poetic-mind

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