I.
Only now do i discern my cousin's speech,
I, who was so limited, so dense,
I could not of it make sense,
and only heard the eagle's shrill screech!
Only now do I clearly see
the graceful dance my cousin, the tree, does make
in the gentle summer breezes he does partake,
in his own unique language and repertory!
II.
When dawned realization that I'm kin to life?
Alas, it is hard to say,
for t'was slowly, o'er many a day,
and t'was an amalgam of observations and truths rife!
None of my five senses are any keener,
but as life and experience humbled me,
slowly lifted the veil of human pride's obstructivity,
which had prevented me becoming truth's gleaner!
In hindsight, we see some of those teachers of our youth
which planted the seeds of awareness,
of life, and of creation's awesomeness,
those catalysts which prepared us to assimilate truth:
a mother's love and tender embrace,
grandparents' patience and wonderous wisdom,
intimacy with the animal kingdom,
and time to quietly commune with Nature's face.
I remember the prism which showed me light's rainbows,
which showed me a wonder, a mystery,
which showed me there was more to what we see
than what our ordinary senses would to us disclose!
I remember quiet times and prayer,
reaching out with unknown senses,
trying to stretch and develop sentience,
and listening, feeling, for what may answer.
III.
Bit by bit, faintly at first,
come the hints of a fuller spectrum,
the evidence of a far grander dictum;
comes awareness unto those who for it thirst!
Human beings are but one limited expression
of organic life, and we are to all life kin,
and unbeknownst, make of it, unto God, our confession!
How we treat any living thing
is how we treat life, our kin,
how we profess our harmony or our sin,
and is what we would unto life bring.
IV.
Awareness, more than language, was dispersed
at the Tower of Babel, of ancient yore,
whose shadow yet falls upon every door,
and may only by conscious effort be reversed!
Yea though I walk through the shadow of Babel,
yet I may open spirit's eye and see
Creation's prism, and the spectrum of life's family,
and make Babel, for me, no longer more than ancient fable!
What Rare Maid?
What rare maid could smile upon this visage of pain,
or shine her eyes upon mine, which see in vain?
What tender spirit could wipe away my tears,
and gently kiss away my fears?
What blossoming heart would enfold this lachrymose heart of mine,
as she did me in her arms entwine?
What rarest flower of woman would my loneliness take,
and of it, something beautiful make?
Only the rarest Rose of Humanity coulds't this dare,
out of her heart's great care,
and out of her gift of sight to see what I cannot see,
what I might be, after she metamorphosized me!
Death Penalty
By the death penalty, we don't say that murder is wrong;
we would only discriminate unto whom we say the right to murder may belong,
ignoring that the Lord God has forbidden murder by any of the human throng!
(Untitled)
As lapping waves o'er breakwaters,
come the clouds upon the stoic moon;
nor more, can importune
reflected Light's timeless psalters!
Ê
The Holocaust Prayer
And Satan was enraged,
as he, the Lord's children caged,
as he deceived all, in this world of the vain,
and propogated the progeny of Cain!
How many times has the drama been played,
on varied stages, in varied costumes made?
O Lord, grant that we may see beyond our pain,
and see the truth, see amongst us still., the faces of Cain!
We dare not, the Holocaust forget,
but harder still's to learn it's true beget,
lest again bloom this indescribeable horror
which evil's made bloom in so many an arbor!
The evil-doers are gone now,
but not their legacy of hate,
the seeds of hate which in us grow
and insidiously would bring us into their lost state!
O Lord, grant these tormented victims peace,
but grant us not, forgetfulness' release!
Grant instead, we pray, that the terrible pain
enable men to see the truth, that such sacrifice be not in vain!
And grant, we pray, that the Holocaust's pain
be evil's last such refrain!!!
Upon the Shore
I went down unto the shore,
to hear the call of the sea;
'tis for me another door,
to all that was, or yet may be.
Waves from the primal deep
break and foam, rhythmically,
transcending time, their rounds to keep,
reminding us of creation's majesty!
Feel the surges of primal forces!
Feel thy soul within respond!
Sense the mysterious eternal courses
to which all life must correspond!
I went down unto the shore,
to hear the call of the sea;
I went as so 'oft before,
that I may better know me!
Treasure Hoards
Somewhere tonight, lovers' tender kisses,
in softly resonant harmony, strike sympathetic chords
in the fabric of Creation, and from the heavens to the abysses,
Creation warmly opens to us, and dsicloses it's treasure hoards!
(Untitled)
E'er the question rearises,
Is there intelligent life on earth?
Man himself e'er comprises
the strongest assertion of it's dearth!
(Untitled)
The mass of humanity ne'er know
the heights or depths
of anything here below,
and might as well have slept!
Ne'er the joys, the sorrows,
the accomplishment,,
nor the promises of tomorrows,
only ennui's mild lament!
But in their unfulfilled uneasiness,
in their mild disappointment,
lies masked a brooding jealousy and darkness,
which is the fabric of tyranny's raiment!