Epic of Eur

Thus in the days when time was yet young 

When the vastness of the sky spilt its bile from 

These, the deep places in which the bones of man were made 

And nubile the stones cast up and waters made way. 

There the One looked out from vast, cosmic throne 

And offered here and there footholds of stone 

Forming then with rivers of blood and of space and of time 

The eldest of souls, singular, brooding, and monolithic of kind. 

The eons, the ages like silent deep waters they rolled 

As stones and the souls and the darkness took hold 

But then, in some epoch, forgotten, dim, past,  

As nebulae shown out, stars violent flashed 

The deepest of darkness, of earth and of stone 

Leviathan wakened, and countenance shown 

With lids slowly rising, earth crumbled, behold 

Eyes new and yearning, he basked in the cold 

In dimmest of light of young worlds forming fast 

Perceived he the purest of light in the vast 

Unreachable corners of worlds barely hewn 

And there he beheld her, a soul...like he, new. 

Her light both blue and white and indescribable and pure, 

And he knew it must now be that the cold, dark reaches of the unknown 

Vastness could no longer satisfy........... 

The One, the One perceived as well. 

But the One remained alone... 

Seeds took root.

the new year

I walked out into the desert and quietly I bid adieu, 

We have walked this time together, turned some pages, me and you. 

I recalled the laughter, glances, all the trials and moments gone, 

All the pain and bitter waters, simple pleasures ere the dawn. 

In my mind I walked the paths again, the high ones and the low. 

Pulled the oars on tempest raging, trudged the valleys, long and slow. 

The many footsteps we trod silent, joyous din of laughter deep, 

Slopes of grassy undulation, rocky crags so wild and step. 

There within you I made changes, I made troubles, some I saved 

Left destruction, built high castles, laid the path for better days. 

I remember all the moments, many bitter, many sweet, 

And with wonder see you off into the pages at my feet. 

Your essence lives in mem’ry and upon it will be built 

The pages forward to the mountain until words are someday stilled. 

I walked out into the desert and I raised my glass to you. 

My still anticipation of the pages bold and true. 

Holding naught but possibility and dreams of what will be, 

Armed with sweetest nectar flowing from the ripened fruits I see. 

For my feet with take me places that I never knew I’d find, 

My arms will hold to someone that I thought long left behind. 

The destiny that rises will close in and meet me there, 

On the swaying grasses, scent of pine and incense wafting there. 

The colors are yet vague and will emerge in their due time, 

As I gently stroll along the path that shows itself as mine. 

I walked out into the desert and I raised my glass to these,  

Drank a toast to yesterday, cheers for future scented breeze. 

I poured a shot of whiskey up to those forgotten gods 

Sitting silent in the shadows, where the horses run unshod 

The ones who recognize the soul that lives inside these bones 

Understanding that the paths we walk are paths our hearts must go. 

I tip my hat to this dark earth and stone that holds my feet up here 

And to which I’ll soon embrace again, serene and without fear. 

Then I turn and, lantern burning, let the old day drift to smoke 

Walking silently, with purpose, to tomorrow’s light and cold. 

The Beggar

I am a beggar slowly groping my way down a dim lit path
My feeble voice, my fingertips will all, in due time, onward pass
I am a breath of wind that whistles, gently strokes the window glass
Speaking words that dissipate, they fall away, they will not last

The dust perhaps, on which you dance, was once a man better than I
A man who's deeds caused you to swoon, went on and taught the world to fly
But now the earth is his abode and back to ruin he now slides
And I sit here amidst his essence, lift my vision to the sky.

Do not waste your own concern, this is not melancholy prose
I do not envy those who walk the roads that I can never go
For in the end there is no tally, no epic, formidable foe
We will lie silent together, from whence we came, we all will go

a meditation on us

and then, in this deep contentment here
unburdened, unbound, unencumbered
by tedium and things obliged
the nuanced sweetness of touching soul
where silence does not still the heady air
the atmosphere thick with the subtle ether
magnetic in its draw, leaving things interwoven
without rope or cord with which to weave.

to this strange, ethereal plane the ghosts, the djinn
the hallowed ones who walk in step with the living
but offer their counsel from distant, deep repose
do look on, eyeless, listen in, earless
and offer up the countenance of the very earth and stone
upon which to sit a while and commune

and quiet peace is the color with which
the canvas is painted
and moments only are left indelibly chiseled
in the fabric of souls
and presence is the only requisite offer.