What would you do if given the torch?
Lead, follow or make your own course?
Would you carry it proudly or find someone who could?
Or make even more torches of fire and wood?
Whatever you do, keep hold of the light:
Do not let it go in the darkness of night.
by Garret Woo
1/29/2019
When the sun is exhausted by the pull of the moon
It loses the power to balance the two.
The wing of a shadow spreads over our eyes
Consuming the earth with secrets untied.
And all of the plotting by darkness contrived
Brings forth the sounds from nature derived.
The noise of the wind through hollowed out trees
Plays ancient notes of the Night’s Symphony.
Ebbing and flowing through leaves of green,
The air fluxes and murmurs in somber routine.
Things in dark places make curious sounds
With skittering feet, around and around.
Until rays of sun through heavens extend;
As quick as it started the Symphony ends.
by Garret Woo
1/18/2019
American sons for enemy blood,
TVs and hand-grenades, coffee and guns;
Coins show our greedy eyes, blinded by mud,
The horrors of war mistaken for love.
Trust may be bought and is easily sold
Like innocent men sent into the hole.
by Garret Woo
1/14/2019
Sorrow’s grip is cruel this evening,
It’s tighter than the usual.
It seems I cannot shake these feelings;
The desperation is mutual.
Thoughts wander through the night
And leave a trackless path,
Like memories I cannot revisit;
Like wheat without the chaff.
by Garret Woo
1/10/2019
Favorable weather with flowers in May,
I came down to see you and watch the parade.
You weren’t there because you’d found another,
I walked away silently and left the bouquet.
Today my attention, tomorrow my love;
I’d give to you everything like the sky to a dove.
But you had no interest in returning the fire
So I gave up my kindle and abandoned the pyre.
I burned down the bridges and lowered the gates
And walled myself up in a palace of hate.
I forgot how to love and let go of the reins,
Submitting to solitude, consumed by the pain.
by Garret Woo
c. 2004 edited 2/13/2019
In familiar comfort was I alone
Like a candle’s light in darkness shown.
With trembling flame and cotton wick,
The blackness does the light constrict.
It dances softly on the floor
To contrast shadows on the drawer.
Darkness seeks to steal the light
As does age with time blur sight.
The candle’s wax changes form
From stick to base into puddle warm.
Not unlike our fragile figures,
The wax grows stiff with absent flicker.
by Garret Woo
1/7/2019
Instincts hasten into position
The men of the Second Infantry Division.
With God and country in high regard,
They man the guns upon the guard.
Ordnance booming with malign intent,
“Pro Aris et Focis” they represent.
Shelling torrents howl grisly songs,
Pounding the earth ‘til form begone.
By foe and fire are stout hearts tested;
Inside the crucible are mistakes bested.
Stalled by rush and sniper fire,
The Second fights with outcome dire.
by Garret Woo
1/8/2019
A hero is born not from the laurels
Of glory but from crafters’ modest hands.
Observe the maker in steady silence,
Weaving native branches from ancient lands.
The wreath prepared with flexible patience
Is fitted on the brows of another
To celebrate the maker’s creation
Through their representation by others.
by Garret Woo
1/26/2019
By pictured form or written word,
I plot my thoughts upon the map;
Digitized by growing eyes,
Their hidden meanings I unwrap.
The secret lantern shows the way,
It illuminates the path;
Its glowing vessel set ablaze,
To animate my craft.
by Garret Woo
1/6/2019
Blue shaded hills with green leaves of clovers,
Occurrences scarce with natural form.
The heavens play the role of the sower;
Blue shaded hills with green leaves of clovers.
Nature orders they grow a bit lower
With flexible stems to outlast the storms.
Blue shaded hills with green leaves of clovers,
Occurrences scarce with natural form.
by Garret Woo
1/21/2019
Six thousand eyes upon you there,
Standing on the platform square.
Fractured light by marble columns
Moves solemnly across the stairs.
It warms the mantle above the commons,
Below whose vaults you do prepare.
The noise makes room for silence,
Which quickly do you seize.
The crowds are finally quiet;
The time has come to lead:
“Let those of you who know me
Validate my deeds.
To those whose eyes I stand before:
Open them and see.”
Into the day are your words carried
To captive ears by silver tongue.
The verdant palm branch has been readied,
And the Eagle’s banner hung.
by Garret Woo
1/5/2019
The Secret Lantern 