There's a star gone Nova
Blazing in its death
Somewhere there's a baby
Taking her first breath

There's a tree that's
just been felled
By a lightning bolt
It's burning
There's a man
Who loves a lass
Weeping for his yearning

There is a mountain rising up
Beneath the ocean's depths
There's a promise
That was made
Which was never kept

There's a storm
That's moving in
To quench a Raging Fire
There's woman who is old
Burning with desire

However viewed, the universe
Under Nature's Veil
Is very like your own true face
However wan and pale

The Parables, the metaphors
The things that poets speak
Are in the moon and sun and stars
We have only to seek

When our sun goes Nova
When all mountains fall
We will, at last, perceive our God

The Ruler of us all.



SøułSurvivør
(C) 3/5/2018

.

I capture an image
as you flitter
through my dreams,
never resting to say hello,
never staying long enough
for me to enjoy
or appreciate your visits,
your mist like touch
as St Vitus Dance drives
you fidgeting
amongst my inner thoughts,
no care for the damage caused
nor the trails
of scented confusion,
yet wraith-like or feral ghost
your imprint leaves
traces of perfumed attention
in a tortured mind,
that linger with a hope
of a fleeting glance,
replaced with a second look,
and the tender torment
persists in the clinging grip
of pictures
sequenced to evade notice.


© Pagan Paul (05/03/18)