In the Beginning

Génesis

Génesis (Photo credit: ‘J’)

Common is the misperception

God broke the Darkness with the Sunlight and the Trees.

More accurate to say the World’s conception

began with Words:

“Let There Be Light” was simply

Nature’s Poetry.

 

(Hello all! If there are any Fantasy lovers amongst you poetry people, I would also recommend checking out my announcement from earlier this week. At Faith’s End, the sequel to The Hollow March, has just been published and is now live! Check it out if some of the shiny bits and pieces on this site catch your fancy.)

A Man, A King

What is a man but

Flesh and bone gave breath;

Such mortal beast

To buck beneath

The reins of my imagination.

Cry out for me, ye bloodied hands

I am the stones arise on emerald hills

My flesh the graven gold

Of toiling back and grinding axe.

My blood be thee and thine

All rivers flow to mine

Call me God, for all I see is all I am

A fire in the earth

Tempered in the sea of sable madness

Yet to swim, yet to circumnavigate

My ambition, this thing of steel

No land might ever satisfy

The hunger of my soul.

All songs, they sing for me

Each note a dirge unto my memory.

Each breath, praise, for it is mine divine

Providence, they say, a god-in-man

Whoso could ever hope to say

I could not turn the tides.

I am the horse that rides,

I am the bolt that flies,

I am the child that cries,

He whom only fate defies.

Behold my majesty and yet despair

Of he who masters everyone

And nothing, and no one, still.

For the latest Monday Poetry Potluck!

What is He?

Twinkle, twinkle

In the eye

Revelation of a child’s sigh

Everywhere and all around

Nowhere, nothing, never was

This being of infection

Diseased nation of minds

Infecting and polluting

It is as much to kill as die

The beyond, always something lies

Beyond, and that is the reach

And nothing, they say

Has cured everything

If no one dies and no one thinks

It must be gone, it must be gone

But everywhere the dead and the dying

This being, non-complacent

To met out life, but death—

Child, what is God?

In your eyes and in your smile

A touch, held without duress,

Sweet child, that is all

The God I’ll ever need.

A father’s love

Staring out the window

the old man sees the picture:

laughter and smiles, these bodies still they

tackle and break and the ball

it floats between, less a joy than a symbol

of a father’s love–

he young, to full of life and love

for dearest son–

he still the younger, laughing, adoration still

he sees this game, a day, a week

and weeps upon the broken knees,

this weary flesh–oh time, time

has rotted;

there is no game for he, this is

Life, life he shall not have, nor give,

but still he looks to the growing faces

of the life beside,

and to this image can but smile–

in that child’s eyes

a word, a look are all he needs

to know the love, the deed–

he cannot do, but love can show

in other ways–

sometimes he just needs the reminder.

Oh these regrets, such bitter things–

thank God, thank God, that child

still smiles at me.

My latest contribution to the wonderful One Shot Poetry Wednesdays! Once you’ve had a look, check out some of the other One Shot Poets as well– they’re a skilled bunch of poets, looking to form a community and support one another.  Enjoy!

From Russia with Love

The salvation of mankind lies only in making everything the concern of all.
~Alexander Solzhenitsyn

Even so, one step from my grave, I believe that cruelty, spite, The powers of darkness will in time, Be crushed by the spirit of light.
~Boris Pasternak

Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it alone. Love is God, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall return to the general and eternal source.
~Leo Tolstoy

For, after all, you do grow up, you do outgrow your ideals, which turn to dust and ashes, which are shattered into fragments; and if you have no other life, you just have to build one up out of these fragments. And all the time your soul is craving and longing for something else. And in vain does the dreamer rummage about in his old dreams, raking them over as though they were a heap of cinders, looking in these cinders for some spark, however tiny, to fan it into a flame so as to warm his chilled blood by it and revive in it all that he held so dear before, all that touched his heart, that made his blood course through his veins, that drew tears from his eyes, and that so splendidly deceived him!
~ Fyodor Dostoevsky, White Nights

Belief

I have not seen the light.

It burns

Me but I know

it is around Me

and I cannot feel it

on my skin this fire

Dances without Desire

Dies without Devotion

and wallows in its ashes

for a man

without Faith

knows neither Hope

nor Fear

but the binds of

Mortality does not lift

and excitement fades

with Life, failing

to elicit the possibility

of what may lie

beyond the stars

of time-locked

Existence.

Of the Beauty of Nature

The Famous Red Rocks

It’s Sunday, which means the latest batch of weekly quotes. This time around, keeping to the tune of my Colorado trip, all are nature-themed. One is actually a poem as well, written by the renowned Lord Byron. Beneath these I have also included another pair of pictures from my travels through the mountains. I hope you enjoy – for there is truly no mortal beauty quite so great as the power and majesty we may behold each day in the world around us.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more.
~George Gordon, Lord Byron, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage

I believe that there is a subtle magnetism in Nature, which, if we unconsciously yield to it, will direct us aright.  ~Henry David Thoreau

I thank you God for this most amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.  ~E.E. Cummings


Fading Gods

He gazes down from hea’n above,

Watching through a powdered dove.

His people walk the Earth below,

Dreaming of what they can not know.

He sighs and turns away,

As his people begin to go astray.

He wanders then to ancient hall,

Where so many ‘fore had come to fall.

Broken statues linger here,

Of fallen Gods who’d known this fear.

That noble Odin,

That beauty Benten,

Oh great Anubis!—

All fell into the great Abyss…

Fear begins to creep,

Even Gods are known to weep—

Is he destined for this same grim fate?

Can he only pray and wait?

He is as great as any passed,

And his kingdom is so very vast;

He looks into their wand’ring eyes,

Ever watching from the skies.

Is this God destined for the same grim fate,

That fell on those before him?

They say he is so great a being—

But can he face that test of time,

That felled those powers all,

That came before him

In those days of old?