Paul Willason Poet Free verse

Survival In The Age Of The Narcissist

They have yet to enter
that quiet place of sanctuary 
where the sacred survives
unmolested by lies and greed,
a corner lit long ago 
when first a sense
of the Sublime illuminated
the human soul 
and spoke in the hush
of evenings and in the language
of a transcendent world.

It still lives wherever art
finds voice and where
creation takes form
in trees, in flowing streams,
mountains, plains
and in the depths of seas
and there to in places where 
care, respect and compassion 
are practised and differences
are let be, where power
shatters against a gentle
humility.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

sara Etgen-Baker April 7, 2026 at 4:27 PM an inspirational poem with traces of hope entwined. I especially liked "It still lives wherever art finds voice and where creation takes form in trees, in flowing streams, mountains, plains wishing you well