Poem of the Week #3
January 20, 2008

The Dog’s Prayer

O great one!
Thank you for a soft couch
and for pillows and blankets
that smell like me.

Thank you for my food;
the kind that comes in my bowl
and the kind that I find
on the kitchen floor.

Thank you for squirrels.
I pray that someday
I might chase one down
and have a little chat.

Thank you for walks
on sunny days
and rainy days.
Thank you for smells;
those I know
and those I don’t know.
Thank you for snow;
its cold fluff
begins and ends
my happiness.

Thank you
for delivering me
from the bad days
to the good days
to the humans who love me:
my belly scratcher,
the one that lets me run,
and especially my little one.

Please keep him safe
and grant him always
a soft couch, food in his bowl,
good smells, snow, and squirrels.
May he live a long and happy life,
even after I am gone.

© Lisa Vihos



Poem of the Week #2
January 13, 2008

The Different Drummer

I am the different drummer,
the one whose beat you march to
when you don’t fall in with all the rest.

I live alone across the tracks
in the old house overgrown with vines;
where seekers come to pass the time.

A place where gods and demons sing;
where sadness is transformed on wings
and wild dreams set sail for distant lands.

In crazy colors and crocheted hats,
I smell variously of violets and garlic.
I speak in the rhythms of the underdog.

Many have suffered to go with me
and been better for it in the end
despite the words of enemies and friends.

You can discount me in your blood,
but you’ll pay the price with ulcers,
insomnia, or unrequited love.

Better then to snub the outer noise,
and lift your feet to my refrain;
my beat, your beat, as we traverse the lane.


© Lisa Vihos


Poem of the Week #1
January 6, 2008

Transformations

A tree is just a tree
until you climb
way up into its arms
and sit in safe repose
to think and sing
among the birds.

A dog is just a dog
until you fall asleep together;
her warmth, your blanket
your chest, her pillow.
You dream of chocolate,
She, of squirrels.

Lips are just lips
until a first kiss
sweetens them.
A bed is just a bed
until two people
make it home.

Silence is just silence
until you catch
the symphony inside you:
veins pulsate, bones rattle,
breath, like wind through a reed,
plays a melody
that only you can hear.

© Lisa Vihos



Poem of the Week: Prologue
January 1, 2008

Advice from the Snow

When you fall, fall as I do
soft as feathers or a baby’s sleep.

With a light hand, spread an ocean of diamonds.
Make no sound as you blanket the earth.

Reflect light back upon the looker
orange and pink at morning, deep mauve at dusk.

Simply by your presence, round out flat places
and outline beauty that otherwise goes unnoticed.

And when I call you, do not be afraid to lie down
to bring forth an angel; an image of you in me.


© Lisa Vihos