The altar of the world
takes our sacrifice,
each generation
stacked like kindling
on the stone slab,
struck by lightning
afire and burning
as a signal
in the silent dark
that the struggle
will continue,
and there is hope.
The altar of the world
takes our sacrifice,
each generation
stacked like kindling
on the stone slab,
struck by lightning
afire and burning
as a signal
in the silent dark
that the struggle
will continue,
and there is hope.
Thank you, Don. Release and continuity, ok. Struggle, hope and continuity, uncertain. I tend to link “hope” with “trying”…a red flag for me recently. Without strokes there is no swimming, only sinking.
I’m so grateful for your continuing service to our Community, Don.
Don…yes, we continue to seek a more beautiful world and dream of it…and work towards it…..and there IS hope.
Like your picture says there is a hope that a new dawn produces a new hope, a longing, really ,for the inner realization of our Divinity and as your lines suggest we continue each generation lighting up with new hope and burning with desire. I love the thoughts this poem evokes.
Its not as if we have choice … that’s life! Very grateful for your weekly rhythm, Don!
The poem is a wee altar of hope itself. Keep bearing witness to the human spirit.
just beautiful
In the continuum of life there is always hope and brilliance ………..thank you Don. Your poetry always touches my heart!