Michael Walkerjohn Poet Shape

Creation

by Michaelw1two

 blinding void,
 unlearned mind;
 weary empty depths,
 the cry, what time wants;
 in that night, after fending off,
 the symbolic cords of livings order;
 those eons, of fingers and hands prying,
 giving innocence, to minds and heart’s bleat;
 life like paper, upon such is penned whose words,
 discarded there as waste, thrown down into life’s fire;
 stoked coals, becoming ember red, resisting death,
 mixing the bellows powered wind, smoldering;
 yesterday’s sins into tomorrow's forever’s,
 this moments offers, are hammered;
 preciously, for then this peened,
 creation, sorely cries out;
 as life arises renewed,
 and the darkness;
 seeks the light.

May 2013

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Sara Kendrick October 12, 2013 at 6:06 AM If only all of darkness sought the light..We are a far cry away from that..Thanks for the visit to my page..Your comments were uplifting..Sara Michael Walkerjohn October 12, 2013 at 6:54 PM Aloha Sara... I am pleased that you have visited once again... my word works are not for the weak of mind... and your reviews and comments suggest that your mind is very vibrant... I know these thoughts are a bit harsh, but need to be written and read... thank you for your trust in this post... all of the best from this life, to you, and all of your relations. Michael.