love, did you know
that every diamond
is made from death
compressed and contorted
transformed into something
just beautiful enough to wear
i was once carbon and oxygen
the weight of the earth on my chest
i'll never be as clear nor brilliant but still
you've worn me just the same
eliminated my multi-faceted edges
polished, a rock as any other
no one would believe i was a gem
i am made of dead things, worn out
eroded through the years
i can't sparkle the way you want me to
can't pretend to shine for only you
throw me back to the earth
i belong with the oceans and mosses
only through an end will i glow

Forlorn beauty-child
Living in my night
Crying in your dream.
Sounds of sorrow
Linger in the morning mist
Of subdued consciousness.

Troubled water falls
From awakened red eyes
That searched inside loneliness  
Only to find more.

Now...

Behind my faceted face
Your countenance lingers...
I glance quickly within,
You disappear!

Your gaze lit my shadowed mind.
Your presence was there waiting
For me…

A Sonata…
A Fantasy  
A Major key bright-shining
Singing sunbeams to lift me.

After the music...

Shards of shattered dreams
Scattered like felled icicles
lying in the sun, melting into mulch      
They dawned bright green
Pipers on Scottish dew.

The mourning moon is
Catchlight in your eyes
Bright Bird...

Captivating sailors
Reaching down evoking vulnerable
Aspects held so long secret...

In the glass of my memory sail my chaotic emotions
The ice all between them glistening, the moonbeams of my imagination
Reflect from the faceted rubies embedded within.
I again re-encounter the ecstasy of desire when I touch you.
Such encounters murdering all remnants of dreams
For finally I am ****** wholly into the fantastic reality of you
The joyful, mind numbing, gut heaving, love I feel
My ragged fingers set against an unreachable door
I am powerless to close against you
ever present beyond your love, flooding my veins and filling my soul
My life finally taking wing
Laughter, and fear, all emotions a collective illusion within me
You exceed the threshold of my existence
surrounding and sustaining me eternally
We belong forever solely to one another
Our dawn spent scavenging for each other like rats,
To be born in the afternoon, bald eagles
soaring the days away like gods
Now our lives entwined, no longer passing parallel to each other.

© Crystal Erickson  12/14/07

Yours are the secrets
I'll keep
locked beneath
Virgina City ruins;
deep
within the mines.

May they find
a way
to sparkle-
really shine
some multi-faceted
light,
compared to my
fools gold notion,
they will beam their way back
to me
so easily......

but have mounds, hills,
of Earth
to uncover-
shovel from these eyes,
before the clear-cut
night,
when granted
Clarity.

Howard Robard Hughes
Famously rich recluse
Dreams led him to the lap of luxury
Followed by nightmarish mysophobic OCD

Rich ******* aviator Howard Hughes
With movie starlets kept himself amused
Dated Katherine Hepburn
Bette Davis took her turn
And still more, which kept the tabloids confused

Born Howard Robard Hughes to a rich family
With English, Welsh and French Huguenot ancestry
Enjoyed a successful multi-faceted business career
But aviation and aerospace were his favorite frontier

Windswept dunes
Sprawled
Across the desert floor
The jade of the grass, rotten

Tylmarris's Temple
Lonesome, haunted
An abode of ancient magick
Abandoned but not forgotten.

A solitary shroud
Of ink black reflection
Silhouettes
The pale moonlit windows.

The air whispered
Of Sorcery
Bones and runes in patterns
Drawn from hidden doors.

Drawn across the aeons
When summoned
At times fruitful, at times treacherous
Devastating yet sublime.

The power of the spirits
Was not for all to tame
Less even to mock as
He was about to this time.

The warlock crouched
Over his beloved's corpse
A silent prayer to Tythryll
To return her whence he took her from.

Unanswered again
He mused in sorrow
Four hundred and twenty days in misery
He had now mourned.

A gnarled hand he rested
On her chest
Her skin peeling to reveal bones
Like pearls emerging from pink sand.

A withering smile still
She wore
In her final moments with him
When Death made its stand.

He spoke in Kuthanese
Her name in her tongue
Her true name.
Naírillia.

Daughter of Sand
Keeper of Terralyn's visions
Desert Witch
Touched by the God himself, as a Seer.

With clenched fists
Raised in a fashion
To receive the wrath of the Death God
He stood over the pentacle.

His betrothed beneath
Encumbered in a nexus
Of his safety
As he set to do the impossible.

Tythryll! He bellowed
In a voice born of rage
Despair
Of angst to have his love back.

Seven and seventy limbs
Broke free from the soil
Reaching skywards
In the earth, a giant crack.

Green auras of spirits
Distantly growled
as a mortal
Dared to raise a finger at their Master

He had provoked the very God
To answer to his call
Such was the grief
Of the bonecaster.

The Immortal then descended
Into mortal realm
Tythryll's brow aglow with fury
Of the underworld.

His headless horse neighing
A pirouette from his eternal saddle
To arrive before the temple gates
Hurling thunderbolts.

The warlock called upon
Eknarak, the mountain devourer
As his Ascendant foe
Locked eyeless sockets with him.

The mountain parted
A ridged back, the spirit's face
Colossal, faceted at every angle
Awoken from slumber deep.

The world sizzled
And blazed like some devious
Flash in the sky.
A battle not to be seen.

For innumerable heartbeats
They raged against another
Primal sorcery slowly
Straining the God.

More and more, the warlock
Let loose all spirits of the land
Till finally, a leg of two feet
Pinned the God down.

Wait! His eyes showed fear
For the first time since it's creation
What do you want?
What was wrongfully taken, he whispered.

Tythryll glanced toward
The petite corpse
Sneered.
This is what you fight for?

A hidden dam of helplessness
Broke as all his magic
Was released by the Warlock
To save her.

His body convulsed
Even as it split open midway
Revealing an empty shell
But filled with contempt.

At his command
The earth smiled
A deep chasm that glittered
Showing precious rocks and fire.

A horde of corpulent spirits
Rushed the God to the core.
As the warlock himself
Barely finished the spell whole.

The temple, the sand, the wind
All were ****** into
The cavity, lolling its hungry tongue
To consume all.

Three moons passed
Not a soul,
Would, across the plains,
Now dare to cross.

A change of seasons
Quelling of Earth's lust
Full with the power of a God
The chasm healed itself.

A hand from the soil raised
Clutching at air, nails biting
The black earth, its grip maintained.

Inevitably, an arm appeared.
The beginnings of a torso.
The torso of a being
Who was thought to be dead.

Naírillia, earthborn
She rises in the midst of where
Her love battled
Died.

Hair, as full as a Wickan Horse
Her strength to match an ox.
The ravished skin was no more
bones and soft marrow.

She tottered, stepped ahead
And slipped
Her face beside a ring
Engraved were some words
In her tongue.

I love you.
The day of your birth has now begun.

People wonder, how can Christ, be all things to everyone?
Without the proper perspective, Truth can be missed.
So carefully consider some ideas presented here,
before these spiritual concepts are mistakenly dismissed.

To the BUILDER, Christ is the Sure Foundation.
To the ARCHITECT, He is the Chief Corner Stone.
To the GEOLOGIST, He is the Rock of Ages.
To the SCULPTOR, He is the Living Stone.

To the STUDENT, Christ is the Incarnate Truth.
To the PHILOSOPHER, He is the Wisdom of God.
To the BANKER, He is the Hidden Treasure.
To the PREACHER, He is the Word of God.

To the DOCTOR, Christ is the Great Physician.
To the SERVANT, He is the Good Master.
To the THEOLOGIAN, He is the Author of our Faith.
To the EDUCATOR, He is the Great Teacher.

To the JEWELER, Christ is the Pearl of Great Price.
To the ARTIST, He is the One Altogether Lovely.
To the HORTICULTURIST, He is the True Vine.
To the FLORIST, He is the Lily of the Valley.

To the STATESMAN, Christ is the Desire of all Nations.
To the CARPENTER, He is the Eternal Door.
To the PHILANTHROPIST, He is the Unspeakable Gift.
To the LAWYER, He is the Lawgiver, Advocate and Counselor.

To the BIOLOGIST, Christ is the Life.
To the ENGINEER, He is the New and Living Way.
To the TOILER, He is the Giver of Rest.
To the SINNER, He is the Lamb Who takes all sin away.

Our Christ is a multi-faceted personality,
Who has something for everyone who comes to Him.
Therefore, we should continue to rejoice in Who He is,
by offering heart-felt praise through songs and hymns.



Author notes
Loosely based on:
Col 1:15-18; 2 Tim 2:19; Eph 2:20; Isa 26:4; 1 Pet 2:4-12;
Matt 28:20; Cor 1:24; John 1:1; Heb 12:2; Jer 17:14; Matt 19:16-17;
John 1:3; Matt 16:13-17; John 3:1-2; Matt 13:45; John 15:1;
SoS 2:1; Hag 2:7; John 10:7; Cor 9:15; James 4:12; 1 John 2:1-2;
Isa 9:6-7; John 14:6; Heb 3:1-4:13; John 1:29

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.


This poem is not meant to serve as an all encompassing list of professions; for example, here are a few more viewpoints not mentioned:

To the BAKER, He is the Living Bread.
To the JUDGE, He is the Righteous Judge of all Men.
To the NEWSPAPER, He is the Good Tidings of Great Joy.
To the OCULIST, He is the Light of the Eyes.
To the SOLDIER, He is the fortress.
To the CHRISTIAN, He is the Son of the Living God, the Savior, the Redeemer and the Lord.

Each moment; each thread in the fabric we call existence; is a precious gift.
Blessed or cursed, in hope or despair, we can only marvel at each passing second, minute, hour.....


Multi-faceted, fragrant and eye-wrenching life swirls around us, wreathed in sheer Humanity.

And so we dance the Dance of Life. When a crimson sunset concludes this day;
Days of grey, dreary and mired or Days of depth and mystery, whether lit up or clouded by rain;
We dance in this moment, dance in this day and dance the eternal Dance of Life.

Epiphanies on Woman as Divine Love Incarnate
by Hildegard von Bingen

Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179), also known as the Sibyl of the Rhine and Hildegardis Bingensis, was a German christian mystic who had visions of the Love of God beginning at age three. She was a German Benedictine abbess and polymath: a poet, writer, songwriter, composer, philosopher and medical writer/practitioner.  remains one of the best-known composers of sacred monophony, as well as the most recorded in modern history. She has been considered by scholars to be the founder of scientific natural history in Germany and perhaps the first notable environmentalist as well. She wrote poems and song lyrics in Latin.

These translations are dedicated to the most loving of mothers, my praiseworthy wife Beth.  

“Every good mother is the embodiment of Love.”—Michael R. Burch

“Cry out, therefore, and compose!”—Hildegard von Bingen, Scivias, translation by Michael R. Burch

HILDEGARD VON BINGEN TRANSLATIONS

I behold you,
noble, glorious and complete Woman,
locus of innocence and purity,
the Sacred Matrix
in whom God delights.
—Hildegard von Bingen, “Ave, generosa” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You appeared as a luminous white lily,
as God imagined You eons before Creation,
requiring Creation.
—Hildegard von Bingen, “Ave, generosa” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Now in her
lovingkindness, the deepest tenderness,
abounds for all,
from the Least
to the most Eminent
of those abiding beyond the stars!
—Hildegard von Bingen, “Caritas abundat” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Exquisitely loving All,
she bequeaths the kiss of peace
upon both Pauper and King.
—Hildegard von Bingen, “Caritas abundat” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Fashioned by God’s fingertips,
made in the image of God,
Height of Creation, held
within a womb of mingled blood,—
though heiress to Adam's exiled wanderings,
still the elements rejoiced to behold You,
O praiseworthy Woman,
as the heavens illumed
and thundered with praise at Your birth!
—Hildegard von Bingen, “*** processit factura” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A once-closed portal has been reopened
in the wise Woman
now revealed to us,
for the Flower of Creation
blossoms sun-bright in the dawn.
—Hildegard von Bingen, “Hodie aperuit” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O blessed child,
the Chosen One,
whom God so inspired.
that in time your sacred womb
produced the manifestations of God,
wafting like the gentlest scents
of frankincense, lavender and rose.
—Hildegard von Bingen, “O beata infantia” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O glittering starlight,
O most brilliant, exceptional figure
of the royal marriage,
O bright-faceted gem,
arrayed like a Queen
without flaw ...

You have become an angel's consort
and a priestess of sacredness.

Flee the ancient destroyer's dungeon!
Take your rightful place in the palace of the King.
—Hildegard von Bingen, “O choruscans lux stellarum” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Keywords/Tags: Hildegard von Bingen, English translations, Latin poems, mystic, god, love, woman, womanhood, women, Divine Feminine, mother, son, Mary, Jesus

Two sparkle at xciting find.
Joy, relief, wishes flood our mind.
Reality numbed by ecstasy of find
Hardship, struggle, desires for now behind

Rightfulness of find, reality’s duality
Realization of self, fighting morality
The opportunity loss creates uncertainty.
The opportunity gain, creates possibility

How to capitalize on this potential
Designed improvements appear preferential
Decided, we proceed unconventional
We proceed like natural

Blades of diamonds remove the rough
Painstakingly disregarding, unwanted stuff
Transformation, tough
Mindful, not to lose a bough

Rough turn sparkle, every time
Faceted gem’s birth, sublime  
Artistry creates, perfect rhyme
This treasure set in time

Most beautiful combination
This magnificent creation
Testament of devotion
Evokes amazing emotion  

Bestowed, this incredible treasure
Brings about untold pleasure
Value, without measure
Diamond forever, ours to treasure

Multi faceted with a window's view.

Your emotions held deep beneath the reflective panes.
Your eyes light bright in their hollow essence
- and childlike grins chase this wonder.

Your love is the Moonlight.

Pushing and pulling your passion speaks waves against my insecurities,
breaking them down into something beautiful.
I met you in my dreams before your eyes aligned with mine.
Intertwined.