In Poetry on June 25, 2008 at 2:01 am

They that know the ancient songs
Sing in different directions
That those who hear might liberally appear
To be, without reservation

So often wanted to be this or that
This was intolerance and that, licentious
Required to hold in each hand
The other, needed and vivacious

Slightly tempted to be in need or needed
Highest regard held the latter
Often unnoticed demanding my time
And attention to live for it faster.

Where did men once go for strength?
Not to schools or pathways oft trodden.
But in the stillness remembered
The power founded, yet forgotten.

A hope remains for those who still hear
Not fear of death or damnation to call
But sweetly remains the awkward presence
That beckons with rhythm for all.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: