Eight billion souls mirroring God’s heartbeat,
granted full freedom to act as they please,
estranged from source find love and light deplete,
until shape shifting desires they release,
whence flowing with ease like the morning breeze,
they take a step back to stop flow of time,
dissolving presence in love’s bliss beat chime.
It starts as a thought,
a troubling notion far out
on the extremes of distance
making room for a lifetime
to occupy the intervening space.
Seasons come and go -
wildflowers ripple colour
across wide open plains
and inland rivers exhaust
into a shimmering heat haze
beneath an outback sun.
Fruits ripen and vines rush
to swell their sweet bounty
before the savagery of frost.
Love blossoms, grows, matures
into a silence, gathering all
that has been spoken
into an offering to transcendence.
Candles are lit in the crevices
of the soul.
It comes finally,
swallowing distance -
a whole lifetime -
and you stand paralysed
within your own sense of being,
powerless in the cross-hairs
of its sure aim.
Years of hard work preparing,
Long, rough days and short sleepless nights,
A resolute determination,
And an unwavering commitment
they display.
Countless fun times missed,
A willing sacrifice some say,
No matter the gender,
No matter the field,
Delivering each day
Sincere dedication to hard
work, striving to find a way.
One aim, challenging the impossible,
One goal,
Striving to make a difference,
Saving lives,
Hoping to see a patient’s smile,
Doctors, these miracle workers deserve praise and respect, no matter the outcome.
By Zyrool
5/26
My Aim, by Christine Munsell
Upon waking, I have direct aim,
and all it is - is to sit in my front yard as the birds wake,
And I wake.
My direct aim,
while I immerse myself,
like slowly walking down steps into a pool of water,
is to be sated in the sounds of songs and whistles.
I need an hour of connecting
with creatures who have wings and beauty,
a cup of hot water,
the brief historic morning,
the wren and the mocking bird,
Any unknown bird to me is as beautiful as any other.
Rain will come today,
Charcoal clouds to one side of my sky cross, intent dancers in black.
But it is quiet, except for the birds.
The birds are never afraid.
Copyright © Christine K Munsell | Year Posted 2026
The silk clock melts on the horizon’s crest,
As shadows aim their arrows at the sun,
A marble eye surveys the tangled sequence,
Before the silver journey has begun.
The target is a mirror made of breath,
It shatters into singing hummingbirds,
To dance across the emerald fields of light,
Without a single, cold, acoustic word.
A telescope looks backward through the void,
Where vision aims to catch the quiet fire,
The geometry of space is now transformed,
To fulfill the spirit’s waking, slow desire.
Now rests the focus in the palm of sand,
A feather weight upon a heavy tide,
It waits to bloom upon the seeker’s point,
Where aim and destination coincide.
An arrow hit me straight in the knee,
I yelled out, "Who did that, you s.o.b.?"
Cupid laughed, then said with glee,
"Love is blind -- can't you see?"
I shouted, "No! My glasses are lost from me!"
Then Cupid said something forcefully,
"Like the silent sea -- just let it be!"
I quipped back, "But Cupid, what about me?"
Cupid giggled and flew away... so happily!
Aardvark, audience, aim, address.
Double creature feature, sign sore stress.
Poets, penury, paucity, peak.
Prophets of the pack never wet the beak...
Carrion chic? Run raw revile.
Roundabout the dugout, crocodile!
Reptilian art in forgotten caves.
Knolly, unholy, goal, giant graves...
Mercy saves. Greed kills. No pain pills.
Mighty steel walls hemming in the hills.
Lemming, when you fall, do you see doom?
Certain curtain call, boulder seals tomb...
Flickering foxfire, foregone fate.
Heaven and Hell, horror and hate.
Tormented tornado and tired typhoon.
Chemicals dissolving in my spoon...
Queen of Carthage Dido, homebody high!
Stay with me forever in the bye and bye!
Fair as a naga queen in angry mood!
Hit it with wit if it's talking rude!
Buoyant like the hopes of a matador!
Quicken with thy cape, vampire! Be sure.
Yellow priestess, ritual sleek!
Alliance Black Abyss, plant one on my cheek...
wanting lips quiver
articulation curving
at the Cupid’s bow
I postponed being amazed by time, a traveler without aim,
Until, before my soul could die, I learned,
That all that aches has dissipated like smoke under the silver moon,
A flock and a shepherd, shadows of a long-forgotten tale.
Whoever places my bare and fragile bones in an envelope,
Will write a letter of my cowardly and humble feelings,
The black angel, ruling over all that love touches,
Forbids your bleeding heart the wellspring that cries.
Bandaged with a death buried in the stretching future,
The eternity of the moment hides in the despair that surprises us,
The tears of my life, wilted fortune floods you,
The universe in my inspired soul seeks to hide away.
To our earthly life, I give an imponderable and gentle meaning,
Your perfection, my love, only you make it seem without pain,
You are the one who will birth my steps into eternity, forever,
Because your love, like a god, spreads within my soul.
Your love carries a dull dissatisfaction, ever-present,
Our contemporaries feel it and echo it along the way,
Announcing to the present-past, until the last breath,
That your Christ, my beauty, long ago ceased to exist, but turns into our dream.
Just do your best,
Ignore the rest,
Aim high,
You shall fly,
Be best pals,
Dudes and gals,
Don't roll eyes,
Be a surprise,
You best is to be,
Aim high, you shall see!
constrained by senses five and fragmented mind
the world of plurality is what we see
to the underlying reality blind
the absolute truth alone can set us free
which when poised in the void is by us divined
when head melds with heart and both with truth agree
when we behold God in each and every form
with pulsations of His heartbeat we conform
I’m looking to reach a new level
I cannot simply look in the open
I must journey under the hull
For treasures live under the sun
God’s finest work is often done in the dark
Reeling in discomfort I feel its spark
Leaving sight for faith I dare
I cross another nightmare
Wishing I could just rally but all I smell is defeat
Just before I kamikaze the prize falls at my feet
Yes, Justice aspires to be blind,
But Cupid is not far behind.
His aim is so loose,
A moose and a goose
Once found that their stars were aligned.
Aim dead center, O aeon!
Era, this is now.
Ergo, O my stern scion;
Come to anyhow!
Looking-glasses are like wind.
Reality grinned.
Terror, tiger, tamarind!
Sacred til he sinned...
Gaunt the gambrel goblin?
No smile a-face today.
Whirling dervish, loud the din!
War, be on thy way!
Grey of the nebula pond;
Why is waiting good?
Yellow-speckled viper yawned!
Gone but understood!
Kingdoms are like prophecies?
Yes, in this context:
Rife, roil, rampant, rare! Disease!
Hell and Heaven, hexed...
Sort it out, O sordid sigh...
Do not ask us why?
Sylvan silver, art thou shy?
Bargain basement buy?
Syllable, unleash thy wrath!
Letters, break the chain!
Poems, place us on the path!
Language, take the lane!
Young is this old harpsichord?
Harpy, use a sword?
Bull, matador. Which gets gored?
Folly gets you floored.
Holly. Mistletoe, thy doom.
Poison, flow like wine.
Ivy, rune, ice, ancient tomb.
Cyanide strychnine.
Aim For the Stars
Aim for the stars, even if you don’t reach the stars,
at least in time, you made it to the Moon or Mars.
By
Josehf Lloyd Murchison
Sub Categories
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