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An Offering of Lighted Poetic Candles for Steve Page
Image by aliceinthepoetsheartland
Reposting this in my site here for him
Steve Page is a child at heart- in and out of Flickr, you will find much of this veritable Peter Pan in yet another of his sites where he lists his favorite cameras as Canon 5D Mark II and Canon 7D and his favorite journal as predictably: Wall Street, amongst other things.
I quote what this wise guy wrote in his profile:
“I have a passion for photography and all the wonderful creative things we can do with the equipment and technology now available. I have had a love affair with cameras since I was a boy and that love remains after many years. I’m retired after a very rewarding 37 year career in sales and management in the computer industry. That background makes for a natural marriage with the fantastic computer hardware and software that is also available for our use today. I’m a convert to all Mac equipment after having worked with microprocessors since their inception. I have been retired for 10 plus years and during that time I have had the opportunity to do what I want and to explore all of my many interests. Photography and computers take up much of my time and I do my best to stay current in both areas of technology. I totally enjoy trying to improve my skill level with all my equipment.”
~Steve Page
web.me.com/sdpage42/SDP/About_Me.html
I thought our friends here may want to know that Steve had four of his brilliant artworks in photographs featured in Facebook posting together with the poem of an esteemed poet.
I am copying here for you to read. The poem speaks of the filial love for a respected professor- that has the poet coming back to her abandoned cottage to light the lamp of agape` for the woman whose noble profession has greatly influenced his development.
Steve’s photos include the white lily for purity of the poet’s intentions, the exquisite image of Steve’s dragonfly signifies the patient wait for the past to return to the home that nurtured the love for poetry, Steve’s wondrous picture of the lighted Christmas wreath sustains the nostalgic mood of remembering, the lighted sconce of Steve evokes the promise of the poets return; and then his lamppost here is one of the lamps the poet speaks about along the way to and from her cottage, these illumine the darkness of uncertainties…Congratulations Steve! Expect his published works in a project I am working on that should be out by early 2012.
And now the poem…
Care of Light
As soon as it gets dark, I turn on the lights
In my old professor’s cottage, and the following
Morning before office, turn them off again.
With one key, I open the iron gate, and with two
the main door. I turn the lamp on her library,
The vigil light for the Sacred Heart on the shelf
Jutting out a wall; then I switch on the single
Electric bulb outside the kitchen, and last,
The red and green halogen like Christmas lights
below the front eaves.
follow strictly her instructions.
She loves order in her life, and requires
A similar order in other people’s behavior—
A discipline of mind sometimes terrorized
By the haps and hazards of thieving time.
She needs to be always in control,
But she’s old now and frail, can hardly walk,
Deaf and half-blind, and often ill, so that,
having no choice, no housemaid able to endure
Her sense of order, she had to leave
And stay at her sister’s place,
finally dependent.
In the half-darkness and mustiness now
Of her deserted cottage, all its windows closed,
Her books and papers, once alive with breath
Of her impetuous quests, are filmed with dust
On her long working table, awaiting it seems
her return.
I think of how a long time ago
She’d walk briskly to her early morning class,
Dressed in style to shame old maids; then call
Our names as though each had irreplaceable
Post in her invincible order of things;
And then, her shoulders hunched, teach
With a passion that, before the imperious gale
Of her questioning, drove us bleating
On the open plain of the world’s sharp winds.
So; at the day’s end,
I’m her lamplighter on her silent asteroid,
Among books, papers, rubble of chalk.
I close the gate behind me as I stride out,
Making sure I hear the lock’s tiny click.
I follow strictly her instructions.
Down her street the streetlamps cast
my shadow ahead. Crickets in the bushes
Whirr according to their nature.
In the same order, the sun too will rise
tomorrow, and I shall be back.
~Gémino H. Abad
15-17, 24 Oct, 31 Dec. 2002
Care of Light
New Poems and Found
ISBN 978-971-27-2341-4
Gémino H. Abad is a university professor emeritus of literature at the University of the Philippines, a poet, fictionist, literary critic and historian, and anthologist, with many honors and awards to his name, the most recent being the Premio Feronia of Italy in 2009.
He is most noted for his poetry and critical essays among his 36 books and his three-volume historical anthology of our poetry in English.
He is currently working on the last set of his six-volume historical anthology of our short stories in English from 1956 to 2008, of which the first 2-volume set, Upon Our Own Ground, is already out; its 2-vol. sequel, Underground Spirit, is already in the UP Press.
