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Girl on the Elephant
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1)
A thousand
Years from this Era
The scientist, the
astrophysicists, the
Anthropologist,
archeologist, and geologist:
The psychologist, and
the philosopher—
God has their weary
bones, their souls in checked!...
They are but naked
jungle hunters
In a primitive
kingdom, with primeval kings:
Still a thousand
years from their era in which, man
Is to be born into a
clear field of space
To see and understand
God and his cosmos!
—and the ample
ventilation of those truly
Open doors, at each
end of God’s Universe.
12-1-2014/No:
4643
2)
Tomorrow’s Sun
I have no one to
comfort me in my old age,
but my semi, old
wife!
My children—stooped
low—pass between
one day to the other!
Days to them are like
chains of acorns that
have fallen beneath
the pine…
I am content though.
The joy of these
latter years has taught me:
Yesterday’s children
were born for
tomorrow’s sun—
Born into the days of
change.
I can foresee,
imposing days of difficulties
for them, — in this
new world:
which is growing
faster than a blaze of fire!
(They’ll need our
prayers.)
This new world, I
cannot adjust to, it is too cold;
I prefer the warmth I
came from.
This is my warning to
them: fearful days are right
ahead… days that only
prayer will suffice.
No: 4642/11-30-2014
3)
Lighting Dead
Lamps
It isn’t time makes
us old! Not really!
Yet figuratively
speaking.
It is lighting dead
lamps.
We all will be taken
away quite soon.
Now I’ve grown to be
old.
It is living life
bitter that makes one old.
And then, the
lighting of dead lamps.
As if to relive the
past.
When love was not
dead; when
tomorrow’s sun, was
for us, today’s!
Back then, back when
we let the dead
take care of the
dead, —
so we could go on
living, this is how it
was… how it really
was: but,
One by one we grew
old, and to the old
the past is warm, as
is the present cold.
And that my friend is
part of being old;
And for some,
lighting dead lamps.
No: 4641/11-30-2014
4)
Time, Space and
Light
If you could live at
The speed of light, —
you would be
Living in the
present—
The eternal present,
like
The angels do, at all
times!
No: 4644/12-1-2014
The Tanka (Japanese style Poetry)
5)
Woman on the
Elephant
The soul gets
suffocated under blankets—
(this you must be
careful, not to allow)
In dreaming it
searches out of curiosity
Figures of the life,
of the person it is
Incased, in –; the
ones that appear then
Disappear! Embittered
by his fate: the man
Who broods over his wrongs
and mistakes,
His losses, without
seeking God’s grace
—: now, mad as a
hatter, with lust and revenge,
He has suffocated his
soul—he is now liken to
A madman, trying to
reach a woman on an
Elephant, whom is
unreachable!... Thus,
The demons have
succeeded in modifying a
Metamorphosis inside
his soul, his brain
— The soul now is
subject to the black hole
Of nightmares;
another sort of dream life, that
Seems, a form of
existence, for lost souls:
Souls with ferocious,
and merciless figures
Dancing about inside
their heads!
That appear and disappear;
and now the woman
On the elephant is no
longer there, nor relevant:
The devil has his
prey in his pocket: he has gone
As he has always
gone: after hungry men—
Who he intends to led
away, because this is his way!
No: 4645/12-23-2014
