Sacred geometry all around abounds,
anomalies if any, faults on our part,
yet shifting into silence, presence rebounds,
whence we sense within, bliss ignition restart.
Vibrance of staid stillness is our resting place,
wherein doing nothing, we invoke God’s grace,
felt in the physical, rapture lyrical,
being but of course a divine miracle.
Asclepius, in days when we are young,
The Music of the Spheres we first hear sung!
Through straining then, to listen and to learn,
What revelries of truth one may discern!
But we are not conceived as angels are:
A thousand mindless cares our minds must mar,
Whose troubled tides, through time, turn tyrannous tsar.
‘Tis ever and of needs a sorrowful grace,
To see a distant beauty, but in trace,
And know it is no work of mortal race.
Her eyes are shining spheres, sculpted from the marrow of forgotten stars,
Each gaze a window into a universe that pulses in silence,
Charged with the intensity of solar flares dancing on the edge of the horizon,
Yet their warmth is a well-kept mystery, a burn that leaves no trace on the sky of the world,
But just a delicate touch on my soul, an unspoken secret of a silent love.
In the depths of those eyes, untold stories from extinguished times hide,
They flutter like an inner fire that warms my dreams on cold nights,
A secret call that whispers desires that cannot be spoken in words,
And yet, in that silence, I find the echo of an understanding that transcends the light,
A profound connection, like an unseen thread binding two souls beyond time.
On the dark sky of my heart, her eyes shine like beacons of hope,
They guide my steps through the dense fog of doubt, revealing a luminous path,
And in that light, I lose myself and find myself, a traveler of an eternal dream,
For in her eyes, the universe finds its form, and I find my peace,
A dance of lights and shadows, of desires and fulfillments, in a never-ending story.
in spheres
shall I know thee
your flesh entwined
with mine
for the circles,
meadows in each,
and bodies,
ours… dream
you have beauty
I have some
yet in others
spheres dull
for the eons,
embraced in arms,
and bodies,
ours… all
SPHERES
authors
of
sovereignity
with
prerogatives
reserved
situations
proclaimed
in
a visual
transpositionin
both
comprehensive
&panoramic
arrangements
repeatedly
seen
in the
intensive
&ornamental
the diagonal
absorbed by colour
so sensualso
& unrestrained
increasingly
engaged
the
contrast the
of function
in measured
decoration
qualitatively
refined
with a
style
as the measure
of independence
an
impression of depth
harmonies
so disproportionate
adorned
in different hues
with unsurpassable
with a
precision
ennobled
existence
Drawn to a template, we wish to colour,
we yet know not the force that drew us in
but we write away as would a scholar,
inspired by thoughts, silencing worldly din.
Inspirations that in-pour, are God's grace,
reverberating through our conscious mind,
wherein doing nothing, each wave we trace
as symbols hoping they are well aligned.
Although we know the word is not the thing,
we express ourselves as best as we can,
basking in the glow of joy it does bring
and this dear friends is our only game plan.
This is the way we are, by night and day ~
Creativity calls and so we play
29-October-2022
All these spherical bubbles I blow
Look much alike planets we know.
Music of the spheres celestial
Drums roll in the distance
Conch sounded as God’s miracle
Divine entwined parlance
Go in, within, to feel
Soundless thunder appeal
As blissful currents heal
Here, within, so near
Music of the spheres
26-September-2021
Quietus
Two
large bells
float silently
in the still
blue sky
Stoical
inscrutable
gravity-defying
silver grooved spheres
quietly reflecting on
the serenely
vacant landscape
The visitors
don't belong
yet they
arrived to
defy our certainty
May your drives be long and true
Missed fairways, but a few
And when in a rough,
Be it not tall enough
To affect your follow through
May your approach shots miss every tree
Be straight and shank free
Your club selection right
To land it pin high
With a line easy to read
May the greens be not to slow or fast
Always dry, clean and flat
Do that thing you do
With putts no more than two
And no need for a lag
So it’s time to celebrate another year
Be it Feliz Navidad or New Years cheer
Have a good time
Golf buddy o’ mine
And play a round with these dimpled spheres
STROLLING IN THE VIBRANT OF AUTUMN
Strolling down the park, marvelous sight of wonder,
God’s beautiful landscape in kaleidoscope. My heart
in salutation in vibrant color of the leaves. Celestial
spheres, seems to meet the earth and sky, in bright
hues of stunning red, orange, yellow and purplish
nirvana.
Hand in hands, we strolled, emerald green and
gold splashes walkways. Beds of mums in rustic
classic, some view in bright solid chromatic hues.
The kinder breeze, sending the aroma of
thanksgiving feast.
We felt melancholic in the woods, trees dressed
in elegant gold, tears of farewell, to find rest
on cold grave.The sounds of crickets, signals
male calling, a night of dating. Migrated monarch
butterflies, finding a warmer home, to lay eggs.
Squirrels and herbivorous hare, busy digging burrows,
storing food for winter chill. That afternoon walk brings
romance in scented cold air. We tap dance to the tune
of crunchy leaves, stomped, laughed and rolled on the
bed of crisps and colorful leaves.
©aroque
All rights reserved
In Youth, Oft Eyes Are But Dark Jaded Spheres
The Gods we adore in our youthful youth
Are just shadows we see before life's truth
In youth, oft eyes are but dark jaded spheres
That deny and guard against our deep fears
Wherein Life's stream veers in its steady flow
Bypassing so much mortals never know
As we journey into our fated fates
Choosing between light's truth and darken gates
Oft as a lost souls seeking that true path
Yet not seeing Time's decay and death's wrath
At mercy of forces as yet unseen
Never more than when racing on as teens
Those Gods laughing so loudly as we flail
Reveal they live within fires of Hell.
R.J. Lindley, November 26th, 1977
Sonnet, ( Tragic Reality Of Life, Youth And This World's Wrath )
A thousand Suns bow before you,
A thousand Moons reflect your smile...
As Venus descends in skies of blue,
Gowned by Cleopatra Queen of the Nile...
The Sun and Moon before you dance,
Your bridal beauty captured in my heart...
The dulcet dawn spews its romance,
Catapulting kisses by Cupids dart...
Rays of the Sun extend their display,
The Gods of Olympus fest fully rejoice...
Botanical gardens in their full array,
For the Angel's now give their voice.
The Sun and Moon forever will guide,
Of the day for you, to be my only bride.
May.29.2020
The Sun And The Moon
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
N/A for contest
rubbing our legs
together we
can make
fire or at
least
we
can try hard enough
to get a spark but
musically we
are two
cellos
in
the throes of a score
with a difficulty
that can only
be matched
by crickets
chirping
in harmony with the dark
of a new moon soon
to sound in tune
to climax and
at that exact
moment
in this symphonic
movement we
light and lift
ourselves
to jump
into
the
air
as
fireflies
Centrifugal bliss,
they twirl, whirl, swirling;
a square dance in the void.
Vibrant marbles in euphoric flight,
gasses in party-mingling,
while Saturn’s rings promenade.
Single’s pass through black holes,
weaving the ring to the
square-dance tunes
of the Universes.
Written 7-1-19
"The Universe Poetry Contest"
Nina Parmenter
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