Poetry / Of Man and god
Not of an ecclesiastic joy
Do I sing.
This is primal, human intensity
Life at its natural essence
Man in nature.
Sun-worship.
What holier than the
Great orb of life?
What doom of man’s mind
Outshines?
With hands planted firmly
In the cold earth
Our spirits grow and bless
With hands lifted to an auspicious
Sky, they torment and terror
Rains threats and cast stones…
Such are the comings and goings
Of jealousy.
What divinity is in such matters?
Spring and winter
Summer and fall
Rising flowers dying embers
Thunderstruck branches
And coastal shores…they are all and all.
A turbulent world seems a quiet peace
Opposite a tormented soul,
Freedom is human, free from human
Grand nature knows no bonds.
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It’s a wonderfully written piece. Great images, and all tied together beautifully. I have some problem with the subject matter, but that’s me, and nothing to do with your writing. I’d drop the ”.” at the end of your lines, unless you’re moving from one idea to another – and then it’s time for a new stanza. The line break is enough, the ”.” is superfluous. I am especially fond of the “human” lines [With hands planted firmly/In the cold earth/Our spirits grow, A turbulent world seems a quiet peace/Opposite a tormented soul], very striking images, and universally recognized, but put so eloquently… very much an “Awe” moment. I’m interested to read more of your work.
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