Saturday, September 10, 2016

The Sundry Beacon

I stare into the night,
I see -
Billions of souls in flight;
A sea, the stars - a storm.

I meditate on a light,
I bleed  -
Uncongealed, the inner sight.
A seed, a dream - born.

Somewhere amidst illumination.
In a prism of flames, a guiding torch.
I followed a firefly of grace and comport.
Awakening, scorched by provocation,
An unparalleled force.
I become a sundry beacon, that sets alight the course.

Under the gazing sun
I read
The unwanted signs we shun,
Yet need, we cry - torn.

Amidst the herd we run,
So blind,
Or arrogant - undone.
The time? it flees - stillborn.

The giving of dead ground, lost destination.
A prison of games, that puts limits on all things.
A false idea as old as queens and kings.
Dictated reality, a blight of imagination.
Past 'n present form not a ring,
But a streak of  fuel - ignite, racing, exploding - beginning.
by SRC