Skip to main content

Orange Sunrise


The sunrise was orange and pink through the slender clouds,
a good morning entered to greet me through the windshield.
Speaking silence to me, the breeze and birdsong wag their mouths
as if to say, welcome back my child, your fate has been sealed.

What does that mean, I wonder? Sounds like thunder.
I was expecting the brightness to enter in quietly,
lay down its verse, bring my ready spirit from under
and roar its loving speech most forthrightly.

If my fate is sealed might I be an automaton of purpose
auditioning for a character beyond my earthly likeness?

(Silence…)

The end isn’t coming, save for the awareness of myself,
not for Life, Creation or God, there’s little else.

Peace and Love

(Silence…)

Okay… There’s Peace and Love and silence.
And of course Forgiveness and Laughter forever after…

© 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman
32 comments
read the poem

SKYFALL

Skyfall... We continue to play along with an unnatural game that has serious consequences, soon we'll find ourselves enslaved without recourse to the system. (Is that true of local charades?) Yes. (Why can't we free ourselves from the system?) The madness of money. (It's not money, it's people, right?) It's both, money and us in tandem, thus assuring money's might and our adherance to its loudness. (Madness...) Indeed. © 2017 Mark Richard Prime
1 comment
read the poem

THE ROCK HOLDS

The rock holds the soil in and from the soil springs the tree, the green of LIFE rolling from the blue, rising to the occasion of itself. . “Be!”, the (H)eartH declares, “Be what you are!” . (We thought we were!) . (We think we are!) . “You are, but not freely, therefore, only a thought, and a thought without much thinking, as if you were scared into it.”, the (H)eartH added. . [a quietude begins, the truth being heard and heeded, grooving to the flow] ~ © 2017 Mark Richard Prime
Post a Comment
read the poem