Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.226.4.129
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
Are My Words So Foreign Or Obtuse 
That You May Not, Within Them, See Truth? 
That We Live Together Within, 
While Without We Share, What May One Day, 
Become A Common View; 
A Mutual Love Born Beyond The Forming 
Of All Words. 
A View We May Adopt As Living Love, 
Grown Fervent In The Fertile Soil Of Our Species, 
Forever Married To Each Living Heart. 
A View Deserving Of The Title: Brotherhood Of Man.

Each Star Is A Condensation Of Universe. 
We Are God’s Neurons, Only The Smallest 
Synapse Of Space Between Each Soul, 
Over Which We Send Our Communications, 
With Or Without Love’s Intention; 

The Membrane Of Our Common Memories 
Holding Us Together, 
The Muscles Of Our Motions Moving Us Forward 
Into The Arrangement Of Another Thought. 
Those Thoughts Are Carried By Rock Or Blade 
To Become The Stories From Which They Are Made.
 
Where Were Your Eyes Before You Knew Them? 
In All Finer Motions, Each Feather Balances On Times Blade 
And Will Not Exclude The Heaviest Burden; 
Truth, Which Is At Once 
The Beginning And End Of All Things.

From Each Twilight Comes A Dawn 
An Echo From The Rumblings Of The Earth, 
It Is The Sound Of Our Continuing Birth. 

In The Night’s Clearing Mist 
You Must Catch What Is Taught 
From Every Voice You Hear: 
It is The Creation Of All Your Tomorrows.

Wake Gently  Beyond The Reach Of Any Day, 
Expecting The Miracles That Are Coming. 
The Drumming Of Hearts 
That Will Join You In Your Song.

There Is No Right Or Wrong; 
Only Difference Or Indifference 
In The Way All Notes Are Sung. 

Inspired By A Hunger For The Stars, 
That Shine From The Depths 
Of Each Others Eyes, 
We Grow A Newer Hope For All Lost Souls. 
In Our Dawning Hour 
And In The Rising Of Their Cries,

Faith Waves Away All Curls Of Uncertainty: 
A Flutter, A Kiss, The Miss Or Near Miss, 
A Ring The Sirens Sing,That Endlessly Persists; 

Reminding Us Of Love: 
The Only Anchor To Which Sanity Insists.

In The Living Soul Of All, Life Awakes, 
Confronts The Hour All Clocks Will Tick Again 
As We Awake To Make Another Day; 

Pray Over Breakfast, Offering Our Offspring 
The Smoke Of Every Fire, 
Until Winds Shift; And We, At Last, Retire.

Each Budding Leaf, Thus Flowered Green, 
A Story. 
Brown And Crisp And Driven By The Wind, 
Perhaps Another. 
Around The Corner Next; 
We Name It Other. 

For What Intrigues Us Most; 
We Are The Cannon Of Our Standard, 
Hollow And Loud, 
The Road Behind Us Littered With 
What Once We Carried Proud. 

Our Life A History Of Differences, 
Each Cobble A Past Canning Of Knowns. 

Our Being, Thick With The Sounds 
Of All That Is Taught 
Through Voices Other Than Our Own.

It Is In The First Step, The First Word Of Love,
The First Of AnyThing, That We Are Found.

Every Tree Is Not A Willow
Nor Every Horse A Stallion

Our Wish Is Only A Tavern Of Friends 
Greeted By Each Others Laughter.

Arms like Our Own, Holding 
The Hope We Live With Every Hour 
That Every Drop Will Find Itself A Thirst.

For It Is Only The Middle 
To Which All Men Arrive 
Each Of Their Movements 
From A Silence That Comes Before Life 
And To Which All Life Returns.

So Wrap The Dark Around You 
Be Sorry For The Ones Not Here. 
And Sorrier Still For Those Who Are, 
Whose Voices Disappear.

Lost Still, 
InThe Cradle Of Their Breech.
We Can Only Teach
What has been Taught 
From Every Sage

“ Life Is A Cage,
The Bars Of Which
Are Made Of Your Beliefs.”

To End All Griefs

Know Thyself, 

In This, Will Be Revealed, All Things

And You Will Know At Last

Why The Caged Bird Sings.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required