Editor’s note: Most Meridian readers are familiar with Richard Eyre’s books and articles, but he is less well-known as a poet. We have asked him to share a poem each Monday morning for the remainder of this year as a form of weekly contemplation, along with a preface paragraph about its context and about what motivated him to write it. To read the six earlier poems in this series click here, here, here, here, here, and here.
Poet’s context: About 10 years ago, I came upon a couplet that intrigued me: “the purpose of prose is to help readers understand; the purpose of poetry is to help readers feel.” I decided at that moment that I wanted to be a poet. Today’s poem is selected from my only published book of poetry. The book is called Poems: About Family and Favorites and is available on Amazon or at https://www.familius.com/book/poems/
Don’t Judge (The Lesson of the Moose and the Pelican)
Sometimes on the perpetual trail
Through our window-view meadow,
Fearless presence—calm in size,
But craggy, clumsy
Moose.
Rangy and disproportioned in repose,
Then all grace and power in motion.
Ungainly until he runs,
Strong and striding, straight up a mountain,
Mangy, until he turns
Magnificent.
The land version of the
Pelican,
Waddling and cumbering on land,
Seemingly misassembled, crooked neck,
Bulbous body, bulging beak,
Stumbling along, top-heavy.
Looks better floating, spear fishing
With a quick jab of head and needle beak,
Then a sagging, swinging orange fish-bag,
Impressive.
But still nothing compared to flight—
Soaring, black-tipped wing
Dipping in his master-glide,
Inches off the water,
Subtle and precise—the wind at his command.
Both are reminders never to judge
Or if we do, judge action, not appearance.
Misshapen and awkward—ugly
To some eyes in their stillness,
Yet in float or in flight the Pelican
Epitomizes grace, power, artistry;
And in motion, climbing or running,
The Moose exudes a smooth
Otherworldly strength and ease.
