Best Spiritus Poems

Let us look to see
Nothing we knew before time
Disfigured us all

What I use to mean
I cannot give account for
Nor you explain still

A function machine
Has swallowed us, we go in
Awake, out asleep

Becoming something
We were not meant to pursue
It pursues us here

No beauty born now
Nor beast close...

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Holy Spirit, be my guest
be at my guard
be with me during a test
Holy Spirit be my friend
today and tomorrow
and until the end
fighting demons with your holy wind
fill me with heavenly fire
Only God's desire
and lift me up on the wings of a dove
filled with heavenly love
Veni...

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While rummaging, mining,
and distilling me gray matter,
stoking mentality activates
oft time surprising me,
where unexpected novel

cognizance never abates,
I experienced becoming
linkedin with cosmic fates,
sans collective unconscious
soul of the universe,
and chanced to espy,

(albeit only a trimmed speck),
the spirit of William Butler Yeats
considered one of the foremost figures
of 20th-century literature,
where...

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the worldly ages will come to and end                                     ...

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The Shadow of Spiritus Mundi;

Spiritus Mundi is all about.
 
Yet only dimly upon the dawn.
"Skryer! See into then reflection, assist in me!"

 "Beastly factions dry up oceans of humanity.
  As the sandstorm blows... straight through me.
  Belief has become a static thing." Said...

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Born fully human,
more fully Divine

Our Savior upon us,
existence sublime

The sum of three persons,
all persons as one

His love in the mystery
sent down from above

A choice beyond question,
its truth beyond fact

All faith in transcendence
—unsetting the trap


(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)...

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Spiritus

Why is it that specific memories
haunt me daily?
These most welcomed dearest friends!
Like comfortable, warm velvet slippers,
Hugging and warming, today's dreams.

Sipping that first brewed coffee,
Why is that so heavenly a scent?
And the flickering flames of the heater?
Warm, comforting, crackling.
Magically return, my spirit's searing desires.

Floating all about...

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The divinity of art
hiding in the folds
Draping o’er the multitudes
placing time on hold   

Its pristine encumbrance
so gently it calls
Speaking to our purity
transcending the small

The divinity of art  
in all of its forms
Its music seeks to woo us
its canvas adorns

And once it gains...

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Short in stature,
long in fight,
the zealot stood his ground

The odds unfavored,
no end in sight,
 victory still unfound

The daylight haunting,
the body count,
the field a sea of blood

A bugle blowing
for one last charge,
advancing through the mud

With force depleted
but spirit whole,
his voice heard far and wide…

“Into the jaws
of...

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