Ordinarily I don’t publish so much poetry at Theoria-press, and instead try to provide mostly essays with an odd poem or sonnet occasionally interspersed among them. But the Muse’s visits have outstripped my ability to keep pace with prose pieces so readers who prefer essays should peruse the archives of this site, which are replete with them.
ALL this time they’ve strived in ceaseless labor
in rain and cold and in Midsummer shine
each blade of grass, each verdant saber
a stage of actors where each knows his line
now poppies laugh beneath the crescent Moon
faithful flowers follow the course of Sun
from horizon to midheavenward at noon
each one knows the pathways it shall run
with diligence they have been preparing
in secret for this day of jubilation
no leaf neglecting, no blossom sparing
to consummate their exultation
all Nature is an exclamation
each morning renews the celebration
from the highborn poplar to the lowborn sod
every creature sings the Word of God
P.s. This morning’s garden bloom is a desert flower, Lotus tiered in 3 of a baby violet pinks pearlescent. The exquisite perfume intoxicating to both bee and me. We, marveling in her splendor here in the garden sanctuary of Mother and Child dedicated to her Lord.
True Story!
Amen Amen a beautiful parabola of loves truth🕊️God is light God is Love.