Ode To Stephen Vincent Benet


… i read words with love each day and night and

write in their shadow, hoping one day in time – with inspiration –

that i’ll come near to

(… with what gifts that i’ve been given …)

the magic light of those geniuses i hold so dear …


… for there’s always hope

that light will reign inside, one day

my eyes will open wide and words i’ve written

on the page will give me

the greatest satisfaction …

 “I can be that good, at least occasionally!! (i say to myself)

i have it in me from time to time to have a measure of that genius

if only i had the time … or that special way i think and feel at the “now” …

if only i could find that inspiration whenever i please

i too could bring to my words such life!

(… my fondest desire, “if this could only happen to me every

day … !”)


… it doesn’t …

so, i am content with optimistic hope …


… one day i raised my head … i cocked it a certain way,

i saw a distant point of light i knew was there but never was aware of …

… a light of different brightness

a kind i’ve never seen, within it subtler shades

of dark and light … all colors between written more

distinct with form and subtle shadings …

commonalities with unique differences that

make us each who we are …

places where we live our lives

immersed in storied colors

that reached into my mind unseen …

revealed that day

in private screening …

these gifts of sight the artist had

given me,

the privilege to receive,

sight deeper than what I’d rarely if ever seen … …..

the bright lights of

Stephen Benet …


… his words, combined within such thought and brightest vision … the world encompassed within his mind …

becaming great gifts given from the


of that most creative artist

from his mind into

mine …

works created by Stephen Benet   …


Beautiful words written upon the page

each a cache of all that life can be with

details never seen …

… a panorama of life in a sea of humanity …

inclusive stories made crystal clear from sunlight distilled

strung on silver threads with pearls taken from the sea

for us to see.

A hand so far beyond the charging words

on my screen dimly lighted, my hopeful inspirations

made more humble by

every  word I read.

Words and thoughts and sights i see

so wondrously laid,

if i could, i would say to him with humble finality :

“My playground in the sand could never come close to the majesty of your skies

your nights of visual pallor your days of life and death, or squalor,

success, pain or love given forevermore then taken with cruel exchange

and many more worlds even more profound with beauty treasured that you

have given.

Such is the beauty you have given me  ….”

 I wouldn’t turn a page but with delicate fingers …

with greatest respect for each word written on every page their

resting place sublime, still alive containing his dreams …

though he’s not living

having risen from his mind

onto paper,

from river of deepest mystery.

 The works of Stephen Benet …


His dreams, gifts given to my

most sacred places.

You could call it soul or

where bright light

resides waiting to be released …

or that secret place

deep within that sees and

knows what is real and what is not.


Such is the power within the works of Stephen Benet …


With such great power they lured me

into other worlds

the worlds within his thoughts

replacing mine

the beauty of his dreams to my world

given me.

Such are the works of Stephen Benet …

4 thoughts on “Ode To Stephen Vincent Benet

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