With patience

Speak, but yet soft
In slow and steady manner
In earnest yet grave voice
Not unprofound so…
Thus spake the Shepherd on
That lonely mount in
Andalusia…
That on a gray featureless dawn,
One could be so simple,
Yet so wise…

These words, spoken with understanding…
Patience, to learn, is a virtue came slow…
The words yet simple
Imbibed a most profound interest in me…
And I through my thoughts yet unformed
Making my same path down to the pastures
Thinking
What understanding thus provides
This world with, so intricate
Yet simplicity itself,
That one world alone…
Sufficient
Patience.

Soft the voice

A still soft voice once made self heed to me
Speaking in the middle of the ravag’d storm
Softly. Softly, yet
Slow, but yet translucent…
Shining clear by itself
Like the last rays of the enfeebled sun
On a misty and cloudy day
On that gray dawn,
When I splashed through streams
Cluttered with last year’s snow
Whisper’d slow
What it had seen a day far distant back

And I know not why I heed it
For I had no meaning to me
Whispered
The world is… yours. Live it large…
And I was left to wonder
Could I have dreamt it all?
For I searched again for that soft voice,
Fleeting yet I caught it once and
Yet it wasn’t the same…

I came

Unbidden I came into thy presence
Along the misty mount, cloud worshipped
Only to be drawn back to the other worlds
Far removed.
Oh! Mortal man that thou would’st see
The world that is
So bountiful in its grace like widen’d arms…

Like rays of long forgotten sunlight
Casting deep hued tendrils along the distant horizon
Warm yellows, a sliver of red ting’d clouds
around fairest orange…

And I saw that uncaring man how pristine world he despoiled…

For the sun slow spreading its arms, biding good rest on the
Long coast road,
unasking, all giving.
The beauties of nature in the distant ocean reflected
Drawing last breathes
And poor man, uncaring…
this most magical sight.

And I sought vain to go back,
Unassuming, yet expectant,
Hope, a small candle lighted in recesses of my soul…
And yet I saw the featureless grey dawn
Rising out of this mist’cased world…
Nature mourning that man didst see and yet nae look’d back…!

Angel

An angel once came to me,
Skimming over the orange hue
Of a day long gone
Wanted me to run away with him

Wanting me to see th’ world
As it were, not as it should be
I looked down, the world splashed
With a year old grime and dust

Suddenly I found myself facing a high gate,
Not unknowing why
I questioned him, unheeding what he had said
Whisper’d my soul was clos’d
But then I found myself in a freezing place
It was my mind.

And I saw it was so untrue.
And I tried to dream,
But was trapped within my mind
Then he took me in his arms and
A far distant land

Rising like mist out of the surrounding
Grayness, dirty snow
Plain

And I found that
It was back
To where
Started.
I.

A Plain Rose

A plain rose once sight’d me
Nestl’d in the snow kissed mount
Looking so alone, a splash of yellow
On the gray dawn
It whisper’d its secrets to me…
Told me – life is what I make it out to be
Whisper’d it slowly, told me
All its hidden knowledge
And I was left to wonder…
Could it really be a plain rose?
For life to thus bloom so new

For I know not what drew me on, to that
Mist hidden, snow clad mount
With that one rose in all that lone empty mount
Far from tis world,
For tis fullness, sore blessed mount that it would’st see
Reveal so much meaning richness abundant to me
And yet I wonder
Is this really a plain rose?