a poem: “...around me nature chants her sacred psalter”
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.
THE Earth is not a footstool but an altar
around me nature chants her sacred psalter
in cadences and songs that never falter
in melodies no man could think to alter
led by full-throated throngs of thrushes
read off a pageless book of tares and rushes
that before withal thought’s chatter hushes
fields of flowers sway like painted brushes
coloured golden by fire of the sky
writ in living ink that’s never dry
imparting to the canvas of my eye
the mystery of what it is to Be
but I am absent from this liturgy
though in I wish to enter earnestly
to my holden heart I fail to find the key
and so I knock with feeling, prayer, and thought
upon the senseless door that I have wrought
for what I seek is that by which I’m sought
and what I seek is here even if I am not
so perchance one day he’ll open unto me
and unclose that portal to eternity
I am loving the sonnets. Deepest gratitude as they are with me throughout my working days
Many want the mystery of existence to remain unbesmirched from logical description, and even when they know there is a higher explanation for it. So, we have two equal parallels in this day and age. Faith and reason. Yet, reason is superior because of forces that would undermine human evolution unless we understood the spiritual-scientific rationale. This is the war of words. Yet, every day we come just one inch closer to Armageddon. So, what is up with that? Should we not state the case? Organized, systematic, and functional spiritual evolution, with Humanity winning! To plead from the heart is nice. To receive the heart is what comfort means.