Columbine in the mountains are the palest of blues;
Ours are more intense.
Gentle born ahigh and free
Tougher raised from within a fence.
Blooms match the hue of and reach for the sky,
Elsewhere its polluted, they're more likely to die.
By the highest mountain
Find the coolest breeze.
The most fragrant nectar
invites the buzziest bees.
And the flies of butter and the birds which hum,
Edwin James knew for such sweetness
they all promised to come.
In lowness a wind can blow harsh intoxication,
But closer to God may be heavenly 'proximation.
"Such color" they say, "such strength in powerful hue",
Or perhaps instead energy drawn from pain, ills or rue.
Oh Columbine speak with your pallette what say you?
Is your gift the intense or the Colorado blue?
Were we created for the Shopping Malls
Or to ponder over weight and belly bold?
If God approached would humans hear his call
As prophets did in mystic days of old?
Seeing visions,hearing that small voice
May be possible no longer while we spend.
We look for good advice on what is choice
Not rosaries but money fills the hand?
Instead of tenderness, below, above
We hope to find love handcuffed on the rug.
And promises are lost as well as vows.
Vibrating dildos surround us like black bugs.
The sacred has been hidden, we are half disgraced.
We ignore our lowness and ignore the holy face
Oh Asclepius You have honored me by imparting your art. Through space and time I have come to see the lowness of man and also their majesty
Not just to hear but to listen is quickly losing its spark for each patient I see through beurecatic regulation is now merely a chart. Click all the boxes so the government implies doing all this will save your life.
Now I am stripped of all cognition for if I suggest what is not in the box I am guilty of deviation.
I miss the days were the patient could converse and tell me what is happening without some pre printed verse.
The doctor is in but you may not see him. There are PAs , NPs and scribes that wedge in between him.
Like some Kafka novel you meander through hoping that someone can help you .
Finally your time is up. The doctor you hoped to see never showed up. A prescription awaits you at the check out station. You made it, the waiting room breaks out with a standing ovation. You proudly hold you prescription up high. Thank you all and good bye .
Trust the unknown force that grew you,
From the joining of two cells.
Act of love, of self giving,
Thus to grow a newer self.
Trust the dark,the unseen aspects
Of the life we all do live.
Trust that there is wisdom elsewhere,
To your emptiness to give.
Wait in patience for the time
When inspiration comes at last
Trust in darkness,silence,lowness.
Opposition forms the cross.
Pain is bearable in lowness,
Like the worm in earth I dwell.
When I look I see the sunrise
And I trust all shall be well.
As the wind blows unannounced
Rising up one soul from his lowness
As it howls, journey commenced
Most likely to ponder over his cumbersome blindness
Spent his childhood days in a mountainous place
Facing a vast expanse of seawater
Sandy beach and rocky shoreline to showcase
Old folks were a farmer and boat-builder
Picturesque at almost every turn, only for their eyes
A blind man could not see but a gentle breeze tells it all
As the breeze was cooled by the lake is what it implies
As the wind blows is his device to know what would befall
The rushing of wind would mean a gusty storm
In no time his place be battered by typhoons
Hearing waves undulate liberally, his mind conforms
With the wind tempting to harness his fiddle to attune
When it all calms down, fallen leaves on the ground
Sea froth bubbling after lapping waves
Zephyr comes around to soothe the weariness
As life lurks in out of the blue to cast around
He wishes to know and to see
Through where the wind blows
And ends up hating the humidity
Always wanted someone breathing so close
11 December 2010
Sinner or Saint
==========
We all sin and we are sinners
We are saints upon God’s Grace, the Giver
The way of the cross, God and man entwine
To err is human, to forgive divine
Blind we are, and can’t see the truth
Pretender wins the trust of youth
A deaf to good news, unable to decline
To err is human, to forgive divine
Great mind leads us into the system
Worldwide, the weak flow to its streams
In the lowness of spirit, wrongful is enshrine
To err is human, to forgive divine
Saints we are, since purified, still a whiner
For Jesus did not come for the righteous, but sinners
We are sinners and saints and that shall remain
To err is human, to forgive divine
7th place winner
"To Err Is Human to Forgive Divine" Contest
Sponsored by: Audrey Carey
Contest Judged: 1/8/2011