Before the altar of morning,
with the rise of spring
in grey cloud rain,
the soul rests in silence,
steady and full as the sea.
The long arc of history
compressed to a tremor
passes through bedrock,
yearning for the unmoved.
To pillar the deep,
strengthen the stillness,
heart and mind
become quiet as leaf,
weightless as bird,
fountains of peace
for the earth to live on.
Magnificent!
The unmoved are meeting, coming together quickly, here to be in position.Beautiful, Don.
Beautiful Don… thank you, Bro.
Eloquent,this….strengthen the stillness…that is what is called for.
So calming and lovely. Thank you..
The long arc of history is static, unmoved seeking to entomb humanity yet we know to soften our hearts, minds and be like birds flying through a storm into the light of a clear day. Thank you, Don for your words that move my heart.
Thank you quietly from a place of stillness.
Your gift gets deeper with every passing poem. Thank so much
More about this poem, Don! It is massive in density, weight and meaning, and at the same time it has wings, it is light, joyful and promising – and it is filled with essences of renewal.
“The long arc of history
compressed to a tremor
passes through bedrock”
And then
“Who will pillar the deep
give their strength
to the stillness”
Something mighty is passing through as the altar of the heart rests in silence, waiting, and something is brought to verticality in that same place where the horizontal body rests in a womb through the long arc of history.
Quiet as a leaf (has some association with the tremor)
weightless as a bird (suggests the forces which draw substance into pillared verticality)
for the earth to live on (resurrection, rebirth into the open air before the altar of new morning)
Much is being said; so many levels evoked, layer interpenetrating layer. Thank you Don