You are my Seine...
unchanging through winter and summer.
You are my wise Amu Darya, knowing
both the desert’s heat and the melting ice.
You are my faithful Ganges – a river of lotuses
and burning pyres.
You are my gleaming Yangtze from the land of ginseng.
You are my wild, swirling Ucayali…
You are my wistful Mississippi,
drawing me ever closer to the sea.
I am but a raft swaying on the waves of your dreams.
I drift downstream, past islands of solitude,
to cast anchor in the harbor of your
Passion…
Garden
by Frank Daub
I will talk with you tonight
and – you will answer with yellow flowers,
pale yellow roses,
BRIGHT
wax leaves tied in splashed white bowers.
In dark and on a sea
of white,
You will breathe
into my hand
Perfuming eternity with your gift --
To never leave.
"Man fears time, but time fears the pyramids." ~ 11th century Arab proverb
Rising
mysterious
and grand, far
from history's aeonian
grid, stands The Great Pyramid.
When man's buildings all return to sand,
this timeless structure, still will stand, and, when
mankind fails and goes away; this edifice won't have a word to say.
Life, the ambivalent gift
Built of moments, incidents, experiences,
Images in colour, lingering
In cameos, memories, scattered
Blending in feelings
Breezes stirring love, need, fear,
Joy sometimes
All made of precious little bits
Vulnerable to annihilation
From what is listed
Thereof sing
Into the dark
Absorbent void
Which is the future
And sweet life lived together
In the grip of Time
Twists into sadness;
Contemplates forever
What used to be.
"You hold Eternity in your hand!"
Boomed the ocean to the shore.
"For, in every grain of sand -
Is Earth's history for evermore! "
Walking down the sundried path,
I look up above.
Beyond the treetops, beyond everything that the eyes can see.
I look at the glamour that encompasses me.
Is it the divine? I wonder.
Is it just the illusion of the divine? I ponder.
A look beneath the surface,
Of the Poseidon's gravelly floor,
Makes me wonder if I am even anywhere near the truth?
Wandering Earth as its the only place I can be at,
I look around me in awe.
What do I choose to believe?
The divine? Or do I be the defiant?
There is a way that seems right to us, but the end there of is death,
for life and death itself, is written down, in our breath.
The very words we speak, and the power that they contain,
speaking words of death, in our darkness we remain.
Good or evil, hot or cold, you see,
when we live as both, then luke warm, we shall be.
To come out of this madness, step into His life,
to show love, and forgiveness, not weaving webs of strife.
To treat others, as we want to be treated you see,
to be both good and evil, we are not mean’t to be.
For the truth is this, luke warm will be our taste,
it’s hot or cold, or He will spew us out as waste.
For being luke warm, is living for self, and denying the truths that be,
for narrow is the path, not many will take, that leads to eternity.
Life is no accident-it is a fragile monument adrift upon the relentless river of time.
Drawn toward the quicksand of ignorance, the shadows of greed, and the venomous whirlpool of hatred, it stands on the edge of oblivion.
Yet even in the deepest darkness, one spark of conscience endures; one quiet flame refuses to be extinguished.
When compassion awakens, violence begins to lose its voice. When truth rises, fear surrenders to light.
Beyond the brief horizon of mortality, neither wealth nor power survives-only the love we have shared, the peace we have nurtured, and the humanity we have chosen echo into eternity.
Through shifting sands and
ticking gears,
I traced your shadow down
the years.
Past falling stars and velvet skies,
To seek the welcome of your
eyes.
I vaulted centuries of stone,
A restless traveler, worlds
alone,
Guided by a timeless spark,
A burning compass in the
dark.
For what are epochs, swift or
slow,
When all my paths are
mapped to you?
A thousand lifetimes carved
in sand,
Just for the chance to hold
your hand.
As the flowing river runs toward the sea,
Like the London Eye gazing upon the Thames,
My eternal love simply flows away.
Even in the moment we hold hands,
Looking into each other's eyes,
And whisper our love,
As the Thames flows beneath the London Bridge,
My love, too, simply flows away like that.
My love also vanishes
Into an unknown, fleeting mist,
And the chimes of Big Ben echo through the fog,
Leaving only tears to flow within my memories.
My love was the wave of my eternal sea,
Crying out toward you.
Oh, thou chimes echoing through the mist,
Toll for me!
My love still remains with you.
Oh, thou darkness within the mist,
Come to me!
Carrying my tears upon the River Thames,
I shall offer my love to you,
For someday, my love
Will come before the London Eye.
O fierce wind, that seems to shake
A thousand years of time!
Come to me.
O my light, that seems to pierce
Through the clouds of the vast sky!
On the day you come to my side,
For your sake,
I shall become the chimes of Big Ben!
Father : Further
— by Poet Kim Jang-hyun (J)
Within the fallen memories that you keep,
Your nostalgia was a bird bound for the deep.
That lonely wanderer of a mystic bar,
Was, perhaps, a drifting and a silent star.
Your beauty, standing in Maya all alone,
Was a yearning presence you have always known.
At the edge of exile, where your tears are shed,
You were the seed of pain from which we bled.
Upon a strange civilization's unknown bower,
You were a fleeting, passing pasqueflower.
Immutable, though all the worlds may shift,
Your gentle smile was a fading, distant gift.
That endless world where Maitreya shall reign,
Was the secret truth that you alone sustain.
Beyond the mountain, here within our view,
That flower, surely, was a part of you.
Ages of Time…
We split it into fragile parts,
Seconds, minutes, hours,
Measured life in numbered beats,
And called this structure “ours.”
Yet time won’t count what we keep,
It does not rush or wait,
It passes beyond our grids and lines,
Unaffected by our fate.
Time was never born of clocks,
Nor carved by ticking hands,
It stretched before the stars and earth,
Not ruled by human plans.
It runs its path, it never stops
Unbroken perfection, vast and free.
Yet never a glimpse has been seen by me.
Norman Van Etten
The right choice to make is not always clear
Some things we forsake while others hold dear
Our life on this Earth is short in compare
To the time expanse we will have over there
Our most crucial choice while on Earth must be
Where after this life we will spend eternity
How long will I have this
Screaming inside of me
Realizing the same things over
And over,
Endlessly.
Where I am desperate to express
My being, my soul
Then it dawns
Echoes of my heart's
Empty hole
Everything I could possibly do
In this existence
Has been done before me,
So why the resistance?
Reliving the same stories
The same myths, foretold
I wear the shoes of deities
But the lessons are cold
Blind me to it
Gift me ignorance
That is sweetly bliss
But then everything...
Is gone
From just a single kiss
Close your eyes,
Breathe in
and
Count to one
That is how long eternity is
When it's all done
Through a closed land of darkness did I crawl.
Dark was seen from the corners of my eyes.
I did not know I was behind a wall,
But I felt the bleak despair of shadows.
I escaped, me thought, beyond the black pall,
But forests of clawing hands still sought me.
I discovered that I was but a thrall
To do only as the Stygian bade.
But a Grace that was shining with the Call
From before the foundation of the world,
Shone forth and broke down that horrible wall
And brought me to his bright heavenly home.
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