Rick and Monique

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

OK SO IT'S NOT A REAL REVELATION

Every Once In Awhile I don't sleep well, or I've eaten an inspired bowl of icecream or I stood on my head (blood rushes to the brain, thereby helping me think), or I've sung in the shower...wherever it comes from, I write poems from time to time. So I want you to think about something...instead of a revolutionary reaction to some kind of revelation I'll share what is quite honestly a foolish notion. The sky, vast and awful and yet benign and uncaring. Lives fall and wane and yet clouds and air simply walk by. Sometimes I wish the sky would break apart at my pain or fall on those who would wage evil against another. It's beautiful, but saavy, never getting to close to the action. Really, the sky seems benign to me...sometimes.

Poetry is like that too. But sometimes they allow people to think thoughts they wouldn't have before...so in essence they get to create their own revolutionary revelatory revealing reaction. Maybe I will share 2 of them today...I guess it's because the sun is out...reasons hamper reason...just read:

Family

I do not feign my soul to keep
To hide in the wiles of deep.
I do not take my life so vein
Resplendent in the prospect wane

The urushiol green its poison passed
A peaceful breath and natures last
My eyes have seen the earthen mast
And driven forth in dreams and asp

I yearn to reach the thinning skies
Where oft the eyes of effort lies
To be more blessed by sanguine breeze
Above the billows, and swarthy trees

And yet supine and undisturbed
The skies unbroken and not a word
Acknowledge me this very night
And break in veins to know my plight

Each day I wake my hand is filled
Each day alive and love is willed
To till the earth and reach the skies
To greet the young, consult the wise.

If I should die before I wake
I pray your grace before them make.
I pray my soul be laid with thee
I pray my heart be saved for these

I believe in blossomed joy
Of Heaven’s poignant mirth.
And I believe, bereft of she
A blackened hole of frightening girth.

But God dost know my spirit’s whim
Designed by time, willed by Him.
And I believe before I die
He walks beside the fire and I.

On the wall a portrait be
Pride of heaven joined by thee
The bride and groom and sunlight’s glee
A sign you’re never leaving me.

Before I wake, Christ holds our soul
Our fallow breath, our whisper low
The morning dew the cock does crow
And life again within us sown.

And so each morn I wake and write
Lest we forget love’s even sight
A story binds my nest to home
I shall not die alone.

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