Connecting the thread
from the dimly lit present
back through the darkened past
to the ancient forgotten,
before the slain, the hardened earth,
what comes alight is new to time,
unburdened by mortal weight.
Pale green and fresh as a leaf,
unprecedented as the rising sun,
true to life and nothing else
the unbidden seeps into the unaware,
examining the chains of habit,
the horrid wounds of tradition
and like a tide that lifts all boats
raises the noble and impoverished
to sight of the never before imagined.
The loft of this platform frightens,
instilling vertigo back into the familiar,
but for the intrepid the promise of horizon
leads them into the unseen,
closing behind their old worn history
like the mist of a jagged dream.
A fine poem Don. Anne and I read it aloud this morning – and it must be read aloud too, after engaging and ingesting silently, internally first. So many fine, stand alone images, with the evocation of startling new Presence at each turn. I love what is coming with steady graceful presence through your poems, unfurling like the banner of a newly emergent nation whose border is circumscribed only by the closing mists of that jagged dream, yet open ever new into the living mystical wonder right at hand.
I love that you tell your story; that you tell mankind’s story; that you tell my story. It is not a deed for the faint of heart. Not just a gift, but a dedication to what should be done, what needs to be done. Now. Your blend of poet-warrior-hood is sorely needed.
This struck me as one of your very best.
Don..I am reminded, upon reading this, of Marianne Williamson’s poem about what frightens us is not our shadow but our brilliance……….
Your poetry is a steady pulse of Love and clarity only possible by one who walks their talk. I’m very thankful that Heaven reaches the earth through you. This poem is so beautiful.