A cat named Ralph who makes me laugh
and feel loved
And a tired old man who makes me cry
and feel helpless.
But especially to those
Who can hear the honking of geese
above the sound of traffic
Who can hear the weeping of boys
above the sound of mortars
Who refuse to take life as it is--
because it wasn't always
who look close enough to see
the hurt hidden in anger,
the fear disguised in arrogance,
the eloquence locked in silence beyond all words,
To those who love the faces in the city.
|There Are Men Too Gentle
To Live Among Wolves is a collection of
beautiful, poetic comments about life, love,
people,places, and observations. Some are
provocative expressions of outrage; others, tender
words of comfort and reassurance. All come from
a gentle heart, all see beyond the facade of tradition
and the pseudo-values in today's world.
Expressing the hopes, frustrations, doubts and desires
of the current generation, these poems challenge the
dogmas, hypocrisies and injustices so prevalent in our
James Kavanaugh has both the courage and the sensitivity to take an honest look at the world in which he lives...to understand himself and his fellow man, to write so others may also understand.
James Kavanaugh searches for meaning and understanding wherever they may be found...from "the quiet water in the center of your soul" to "the desperate, dying cities." Moving as they do from the social-religious absurdities to the passions of love and life, his poems will touch the heart of every man.
This is a book born in my heart, born in the pain of ending one life and beginning another, born in the excitement of the continuing search for life's meaning. Some people do not have to search, they find their niche early in life and rest there, seemingly contented and resigned. They do not seem to ask much of life, sometimes they do not seem to take it seriously. At times I envy them, but usually I do not understand them. Seldom do they understand me.
I am one of the searches. There are, I believe millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers and lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know--unless it be to share laughter.
We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we want to love and be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or to compete for love.
This is a book for wanderers, dreamers and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for these who are too gentle to live among wolves.
San Diego, 1970