The Piper's Thought

A Poem that went its own way...

Editor’s Note:

Our Poet Laureate, James Carran, returns with a lovely composition on the power of the quiet meditation of pipe smoking.

Enjoy,

- Frank Theodat

Photo by KAIBING FAN on Unsplash

In his lonely contemplation
With pipe between his teeth
The sky above, dawn's carnation,
The greenest grass beneath
The piper sat, pondering slowly
All things high and lowly.

With pipe fire low and pen fire hot,
Amid the morning light,
The writer wrote, the thinker thought,
The piper's eye was bright.
And as he sat there quiet, still,
He turned to Calv'ry's hill.

That day the fires that burned were hell's
That day the sky was black
The soldiers sneered, the crowd raised yells,
Against God's bloody back.
No quiet thinking for the son
'til life and work were done.

Another light, a deeper breath,
No breath was there for God.
A darker night, he slept in death,
And rose to break death's rod.
So, in peace and sure salvation,
Smoke, in contemplation.