#spheres - Hello Poetry

Circling Earth circling Sun Circling Moon circling Earth Days cycling within Months Months cycling within Years Wheel within wheel within wheel Sphere within sphere within sphere And a day is a day in every sphere Their shadows of which on Earth As Days, Months, and, Years Life's inescapable rhythm ingrained In Man, Beasts, Bugs, and Herbs But only in Man do we count In joy and sorrow we feel it passed Fearful and hopeful all in ignorance For Time's beyond Man's wisdom Though they speak, a threefold echo Each revealing, each foreshadowing For on Earth as it is in Heaven Yet Wonderful as it is, it shall pass We know, for all Earth's given a Sign A count, an unnatural cycle of Sevens Of Seven Days, Months, and Years The Seventh of Each, is a Rest An Eternal Rest, An Everlasting Peace Pondering What is Time, the Master of Time Pointed to the Sabbath, and Ezekiel's Wheels

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Sep 1, 2024

Sep 1, 2024 at 11:17 PM UTC

ylzm

Days, Months, and Years

Circling Earth circling Sun Circling Moon circling Earth Days cycling within Months Months cycling within Years Wheel within wheel within wheel Sphere within sphere within sphere And a day is a day in every sphere Their shadows of which on Earth As Days, Months, and, Years Life's inescapable rhythm ingrained In Man, Beasts, Bugs, and Herbs But only in Man do we count In joy and sorrow we feel it passed Fearful and hopeful all in ignorance For Time's beyond Man's wisdom Though they speak, a threefold echo Each revealing, each foreshadowing For on Earth as it is in Heaven Yet Wonderful as it is, it shall pass We know, for all Earth's given a Sign A count, an unnatural cycle of Sevens Of Seven Days, Months, and Years The Seventh of Each, is a Rest An Eternal Rest, An Everlasting Peace Pondering What is Time, the Master of Time Pointed to the Sabbath, and Ezekiel's Wheels

26

the spheres created the brain follows and just is what creates the spheres

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Apr 27, 2023

Apr 27, 2023 at 6:03 PM UTC

mark-wanless

haiku 23/4/27a

the spheres created the brain follows and just is what creates the spheres

3

For ***** to bounce is very rude, Unless they dropped. Ascendancy Is boldness we don’t like to see. And roundness really is quite lewd. For spheres, directions are the same, And favoring the vertical Is impudent in a mere ball. A proper toy should be more tame.

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Jul 30, 2021

Jul 30, 2021 at 1:42 AM UTC

david-plantinga

Blumfeld

For ***** to bounce is very rude, Unless they dropped. Ascendancy Is boldness we don’t like to see. And roundness really is quite lewd. For spheres, directions are the same, And favoring the vertical Is impudent in a mere ball. A proper toy should be more tame.

8

Sandstorm of Affection We danced in our spheres Kept the hope for happiness within But exhaustion and time came and undressed our realities Fate became inevitable With a single blow We ran into our separate caves Left the sandstorm to tear down everything that once surrounded us We survived in our safety pretext But the sandstorm was all in our element, where it lingered Throughout our quests for genuine safety We left little holes Like those of termites' hills To peep through as we paid careful attention To the hope of the storm's immediate resolution But so sorrily, The winds were cruelly stronger than our expectations And the turbulent winds spun violently piercing grains of sand That greedily and hurtfully clogged our spying termites' holes And shun us from the only last thing That the sandstorm in our element had spared So now we can hope for survival in our isolated darks Thus, with a single atom of hope left within Will we ever see each other again? The cruel wish Mongi C. Nkabindze

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Jan 10, 2018

Jan 10, 2018 at 3:34 AM UTC

The_1_swazi_gambler

Sandstorm of Affection

Sandstorm of Affection We danced in our spheres Kept the hope for happiness within But exhaustion and time came and undressed our realities Fate became inevitable With a single blow We ran into our separate caves Left the sandstorm to tear down everything that once surrounded us We survived in our safety pretext But the sandstorm was all in our element, where it lingered Throughout our quests for genuine safety We left little holes Like those of termites' hills To peep through as we paid careful attention To the hope of the storm's immediate resolution But so sorrily, The winds were cruelly stronger than our expectations And the turbulent winds spun violently piercing grains of sand That greedily and hurtfully clogged our spying termites' holes And shun us from the only last thing That the sandstorm in our element had spared So now we can hope for survival in our isolated darks Thus, with a single atom of hope left within Will we ever see each other again? The cruel wish Mongi C. Nkabindze

26

loss of ego immortal wound loss of possessions greed identity bohemian hallways crumble souls escape through backbends spiders build webs as Lucy learns to walk on legs an eye is opening showing us as one becomes infinity escapes zero precedes the binary in the absence of (time) the crucial slit makes here/there omnipupil primes the present 3 6 9 ... 5 8 13 ... 17 19 23 ... everything you want nothing how it seems

0

Nov 27, 2017

Nov 27, 2017 at 10:28 PM UTC

Applestar

π, the symbol

loss of ego immortal wound loss of possessions greed identity bohemian hallways crumble souls escape through backbends spiders build webs as Lucy learns to walk on legs an eye is opening showing us as one becomes infinity escapes zero precedes the binary in the absence of (time) the crucial slit makes here/there omnipupil primes the present 3 6 9 ... 5 8 13 ... 17 19 23 ... everything you want nothing how it seems

21

Like a small bird gathering bright objects for her nest, I am gathering life. Hands which reached out to me lead me on, so I left at their bidding for an ocean in the East. Traveling through the night as if lost in a waking dream, I came at last to her proximity and slept in an unknown room. In the morning light, beyond the highways, I suddenly saw her, all April morning blue and still. Ocean water bathed my feet, rinsed the crystal beads and pearls I had worn to greet her. Deep in the woods now, I see temples everywhere. In the woodland light, some churches are. Pagodas of bark and moss in the filtered light, Ice caverns blue and still begin to melt beside the waterfall that thunders down, breathing mist in our faces, garlanding itself in rainbow light. In the small city airport I am folded into the arms of my mother-of-pearl. Salt water flows easily from my eyes - like the sweet nectar filling my mouth. "E facile per le farfalle di volare, sai." I walk out into the grey-wet airfield, screaming sounds of engines. Walking forward, I close my eyes, and the world is only light. Now, I have come back to you, with marzipan, and peacock feathers, and stories of my adventures. The light blazes, and the stars send down their song. The Universe is singing.

0

Aug 17, 2015

Aug 17, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC

FrancescaRegan

Universe

Like a small bird gathering bright objects for her nest, I am gathering life. Hands which reached out to me lead me on, so I left at their bidding for an ocean in the East. Traveling through the night as if lost in a waking dream, I came at last to her proximity and slept in an unknown room. In the morning light, beyond the highways, I suddenly saw her, all April morning blue and still. Ocean water bathed my feet, rinsed the crystal beads and pearls I had worn to greet her. Deep in the woods now, I see temples everywhere. In the woodland light, some churches are. Pagodas of bark and moss in the filtered light, Ice caverns blue and still begin to melt beside the waterfall that thunders down, breathing mist in our faces, garlanding itself in rainbow light. In the small city airport I am folded into the arms of my mother-of-pearl. Salt water flows easily from my eyes - like the sweet nectar filling my mouth. "E facile per le farfalle di volare, sai." I walk out into the grey-wet airfield, screaming sounds of engines. Walking forward, I close my eyes, and the world is only light. Now, I have come back to you, with marzipan, and peacock feathers, and stories of my adventures. The light blazes, and the stars send down their song. The Universe is singing.

39