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Spring’s Unfolding View

—after Dylan Thomas’ “The force that through the green fuse drives flower”

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower drives me new,
that blasts the roots of trees, likewise is my destroyer too;
and I am dumb to tell the crooked rose this, as are you;
that my age now is bent as well by spring’s unfolding view.
Bermuda grass is dormant, tan, and dry, as straw accrued,
and rosebush stems, are crinkled, wrinkled, really hard and crude;
the leafless oak without its cloak, is gray, contorted wood;
but all of this alive, that drives and thrives, God found was good.
Still, I am dumb to tell how time ticked heaven round the stars,
but, for as long as I can I will drive despite time’s bars.

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Bruce Dale Wise is a poet and former English teacher currently residing in Texas.

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5 Responses

  1. Paul A. Freeman

    One of the finest images I’ve ever read: “I am dumb to tell how time ticked heaven round the stars”.

    A lovely poem about the passage of time, and resilience in the face of it.

    Thanks for the read, Bruce.

    Reply
  2. Roy Eugene Peterson

    Bruce, this is a precious view of Spring; well-rhymed and well-conceived.

    Reply
    • BDW

      Although it was one of the earliest poems I came into contact with (over half a century ago), Dylan Thomas’ “The Force That Through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower” has remained with me all this time. Its title/opening line struck me with its monosyllabic “force” back then; but now thrills me with its play of pentameter lines, and propensity for longer periods (i.e., dimeters and leisurely enjambment). I admire his aural play as well, seen and heard especially in works, like “Fern Hill”.

      Reply
    • BDW

      as per Bard Eucewelis

      What has most amazed me this year about Spring is how fast it has come. I have only just finished raking the giant ornamental pear trees; and their white flowering blossoms have appeared and fallen like snow to the new greening lawn. Across this urban landscape, the pink, purple and orange flowers have vanished as quickly as the Japanese cherry trees of Washington DC; and throughout the City here so many trees are turning green: sugarberry, elms, honey locust, mesquite, green ash, box elder, red oaks, et. al. In such a world one can become easily attuned to the sprung rhythms of Victorian Hopkins, via the verbal dexterity of PostModernist Dylan Thomas.

      Reply
  3. Margaret Coats

    Glad to hear the force of spring is driving you, Bruce. You may feel dumb to address certain matters, but this fine tennos unfolds a lively view of the season, while it acknowledges challenge remaining in the garden and to the poet as winter departs. Without a challenge, no one develops the determination to overcome.

    Reply

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