Tag Archives: Ethereal purpose

Of What Men Know

What stands before the path of man that to his conscious calls?
What errant spun devices cast a doubt where shadows fall?
What is the fleeting last regret that spins a temporal web of lies?
What casts a haunting second breath before the mournful cries?

Tis locked in deep regression, where only courage can transcend.
Tis in the danced illusion that wraps his mortal soul in sin.
Tis nothing less than innocence engaged in dreams beyond.
Tis only shied experience ‘till age can take it on.

For here upon the precipice of aging mortal waves,
is seen a lifetime’s counter call in triumphed moments saved.
Here recall the history that to these feet has blessed,
that what’s before in mystery has once or twice been second guessed.

To grey and tattered countenance upon the head and cheeks.
To moment’s hope impaled in hate forever left beneath white peaks.
To kindest wrinkles manifest by laughter stolen in a sleep.
To every living texture’s thread so stitched within the soul so deep.

Raise a glass to history! Call a toast to life!
Sing a song of mystery that courage grows from human strife!
Bless the living innocents that by their lacking wisdom go,
to fall and muster strength to rise and come to this of what men know.

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Filed under Growth, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Earth’s Delight

Stand within the failing light of summer’s dusk demarked in time,
suspended ‘twixt the poles of night, stretched thin in whispered rhyme
whose lengthened shadows softly bow these moments held sublime.

These moments captured in between the poles of birth and death,
feed the fleeting flurries’ scenes, in gentle grasp that bends each step
to cull the most you’d hoped to know and all you’ve come to find.

Yet evening follows dawning,
death descends on life,
moments lose their passage gained
as days in task become the wife…

Time remains immortal,
your simple work somehow transcends,
until the mirror folds the lines
around your smiling eyes and skin.

Then to the fleeting moments call your patience born on anxious wings,
with dreams renewed in hastened steps, on bucket lists of greater things
that kept the working day at bay,
that held your time immortal,
that granted strength to iron will,
that stayed the threat of life’s last portal.

Now stand within this failing light, summer’s dusk disrobed and bare,
for evening stretches long her hand and loosens long her darkened hair.

That as you wait for dawn to rise and grant the peace now held in shadow,
do count the many steps surmised, the blessed memories gifted, hallow.

Softly sings the whispered rhyme stretched kind between the poles of night
for souls enrapt in dreams sublime and lullabies of earth’s delight.

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Filed under Dreams, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Of Passing…

Ashes drift across the page,
smudged in ink that lies in rage
left loosened by these blotted stains,
so holds the moment thick.

I sit with silenced, emptied mind
denying few the words I find,
yet nothing blunts the pain
that bends these lays in pages sick.

There is no hope in honesty,
when to the last, emotions fail.
There is but lucid clarity,
that paints the final moments pale.

Flesh deprives the man behind.
Sickness ebbs the soul in kind,
but still the eagled spirit shines,
so baits us to the end.

Moments pass as prayers drift
until the spirits seeking, lift
his deity’s smoky lines,
that in our presence mend.

All life is left in moments played
between the poles of death and birth,
yet left perplexed in passing’s sum
we stand here heavy on this earth…
Waiting our return.

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Filed under Family, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

The Fade – Reprise

At edge of evening’s solitude I pause to seek the fade,
stretched through every molecule and every breath I trade.
It clings to shadows, soften edged. It claims the ether, still.
It thieves the color from the room and blinds the window sill.

My patience feels eternal, midst the smoke that laps my furrowed brow.
Yet here I’ll hold my vigil, calm, redressed in wine, birthed in now.

Not a single trace belies the beating of my heart,
just the gentle padding rain that balances my part.
My part, that is, that here I play in quiet room and pause;
one conscience wandering twixt the thoughts of night and evening’s cause.

Oh gracious time eternal, hold the calm from beating fast,
that by this time suspended draws the fade to drift at last.
At last between the rings of smoke lapped in tongue of fire’s sum,
o’er the luscious nectar’s poise that starts my dreaming heart to run.

Stem my patience fatter than distraction’s playful tugs do pull,
past this moment’s whispered laughter to greet the quiet, kiss the lull.

To the day my reverence, my thanks and gracious praise,
that now the fade has drawn me in, has wicked the ink to pages’ lays.

Quiet, oh, my heart repeats the love of life in patience known,
that grants elixir’s solitude amongst the fade and smoke rings grown.

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Lost Words

Orphans

Ink on ink, stacks of words, lines bent from my mind in haste,
well in wretched motion’s scent within the pile of blotter’s waste.
Denied the spark of light to find a useful purpose where they lay,
lepers of my orphans, renounced to shelves of dim decay.
The dust of ages crack their binds, fermented time lends ochre’s brand
infusing dim their history upon neglected pages, tanned.

Why do they still remain there?
What purpose can they ever fill?
Whose eyes will ever read them?
What holds them in my ebbing will?

My orphans calmly line the shelf, at peace in holding nodding thoughts
that stem form frozen moments summed when grand solutions aptly caught
the hope to bend an errant mind, the rush to solve the world’s woes,
the drive to change, create such love that ecstasy would roll in throes…
Science, math, and cultures gripped. Politics of hatred delved.
Invention, story, fiction, truth all gathered through the ink, there shelved.

In some I rarely venture a visit through their ashen sparks.
Others, I’ve not the courage yet to reach or touch their pages, dark.
But yet they are my orphans, my hopeful babes, my lepers scarred.
For by my hand became here, and by my hand stay safely barred.

I pity those who find them beyond the last of breath in me.
I pray they’ll not destroy them, yet maybe let just some fly free.

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Filed under Perspective, Photography, Poetry, Universal Soul

Follow Your Dream!

What stands against our perseverance unfolding from a hoped success?
What calls a man to hesitate in second glance and second guess?
What drives the winds of challenge to bend us back onto ourselves?
What hearkens to the failures stacking dreams on dusty shelves?

Is there such that keeps from us the dreams we strive to dream?
Are there really fateful blows rending fault within the scheme?
Can it be that such denies God’s purpose within us rent?
Must a life placated be to only walk the path that’s sent?

Hearken not to such blind passion that pulls the grave so ever near!
Follow not the empty echoes that call you home when most you fear!
Stand to face the triumph waiting beyond the hell that you must pay!
Step beyond the trepidation that pulls you, tugs you, scars your way!

For ne’er a lie, nor hope’s descent would be from God in purpose lent.
Ne’er denied a dream applied that from His will came our intent.

Steady long the weary hand that draws the dream from burden’s lading!
Gather strength in spirit steeped upon the path in trials’ trading.
Lash the beam onto the dream that pulls from deep within you.
Follow fast in courage clasped within the heart of soul that’s true.

Follow your dream!

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A Poet’s Wish (a Madman’s Dream!)

Along this fading line of time, along this simple thread of life
that speaks so strong to what I write,
that calls to me, that calls to me…
Here my purpose pulled in rhyme, here my pen becomes my wife
that beckons lays to what is right,
that sings of me, that sings of me…

For I know no other reason in answer to the “wheres” and “whys”…
I know no time of season that stills or strokes the errant tries!
I know that only tempests call within my soul to write it all!

As every dew drop glistens in every moment’s pause, I listen,
‘til sweet the strong confusion reigns, until my thoughts, and pen, sustain
some moment captured, acquiesced beyond the simple thoughts confessed.

Here, in time’s sweet undulation, here in moments caught from you,
I do that which was meant to be,
to sing of thee, to sing of thee…
As moments ebb in transformation, poised through life yet fading, true,
I write of what you let me see,
and raise to thee, and raise to thee…

For life is living’s reason in answer to the “wheres” and “whys”…
Life is born of treason, for in the end we all must die!
But by the tempest’s raging call, it’s life that stakes the stays to all!

The dew upon the rose’s crest defines the truth of living’s best!
In honey sweet of summer’s rain my lays will live beyond my gain
to leave a blessing’s hope for all, as whispered from your kindest call.

To hope, to dream, … to pen it all!

(note – if anybody asks, the “you” in reference is life!)

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