In this new collection of 52 poems, we see a master at the height of his powers, one who has allowed the “wildness” of existence to drive out arrogance. He is our witness on the “yearning shore,” reminding us that even when the world feels shrouded in “desperate folly,” we are not lost. He teaches us a way of communion that requires no chanting or spells—only “one simple yes” to the wonders that persist despite the darkness.
Don Hynes is more than a poet of our generation; he is a keeper of the “hidden stone,” the birthplace of beauty. He reminds us that even as the cultural landscape seems to “descend,” we have the “stars in flight” to guide us. He proves, through every carefully chosen word, that we are “children of the eternal,” and that even in the deepest frost of the soul, we are good.
The briny smell of weed clinging to bare rock, swirls of water rushing south as ebb tide drains the inland sea, emptying the stone-lined cove to gravel and driftwood. Surrendering to time and tide I follow the way of water toward the silent moon, and drain my heart to bedrock.
Moonstruck beauty of the sea, wind-driven from flood tide’s peak, chased south along the old salt veins of gravity and night shadow. Root me deep beside the waters, burnt by sun like yellow grass, tell the crows I’m gone tomorrow, yet for these moments holding fast. Reading
Black silhouettes of trees against dark night beauty, tidal rip of moon and sea. I lay down the weights of lives never lived, hurts given, hurts received. With only so much time, life doesn’t linger on what might have been— only your face in silver moonlight, and the quiet prayers
