A thousand paths wind up the mountain side,
Each claiming truth to soothe the restless mind,
Yet endless debates leave us short of guide,
When logic leaves the seeking spirit blind.
The holy scrolls are lanterns in the night,
But lanterns fade when morning breaks the sky;
Where reason faints, a deeper, silent light
Takes up the reins to guide the inward eye.
No chart of science, philosopher’s stone
Can plumb the depths where secret pearls reside,
The more we weigh the heavy vast unknown,
The more our doubts grow deeper than the tide.
If God dwells close, what use the pilgrimage?
If not, the journey morphs unto mirage.
_______________________
Reflections | 05.08.2026 | faith, god, path, pilgrimage, philosophy, reason, truth, Sonnet
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The colossal sun, a sun that seems on the verge of senile death,
Vomits violently,
Crying out that it can bear no more.
Yet we humans, and all those silent organisms, swallow its emissions,
And the dying creatures of the distant earth spring back to life.
Ah, how wondrous, how marvelous a thing.
Once more, I look upon you.
You throw up, struggling in such agony.
Even your iron-walled presence, now exhausted, collapses at last,
And the next version of me is born.
I am the "Moon."
"Rest now, you!"
Hya! My sun,
Go and taste a sweet, brief slumber.
"Go, save the Earth still trapped in the shroud of darkness!"
That is the message the sun bequeathed to me.
The raging waves, the rough voice, the wild anger—
I swallow them all whole with my moonlight.
Hya! My sun!
Rise up, hurry!
Though I, too, am spent,
I wake the exhausted sun with countless lashes of my whip,
And instantly, the sun reveals the raw welts of my lashing.
"Now I sleep. Burn your fury, make haste.
And when it grows too hard for you, I shall take your place."
If Vulcan Wakes (c) 2025 by The Entangled Pair
If Vulcan fully wakes again and shakes his fiery dreads
unleashing hell in all it's fury on our fearful heads
I tell you once again my friends in words of common rhyme
we perish not in watery graves but in the fires this time
can't see the forest for the trees
can't see the flame for all the fires
can't see the streamlets for the flood
can't see the needs behind desires
if I'm the fire love, you're the spark
that sets my very soul aflame
and when I dance, I dance for you
the one who knows my sacred name
as I dance naked for you now
I feel no fear, no hint of shame
just the love and joy and rapture
that my heart cannot restrain
and so I dance for you my lover
comfortably in pain
now let us burn again my love, not in fear but passion,
let the fires now forge us stronger in their molten fashion.
if this world must end in ash, in cinders or in glowing coals
then let us kiss at end of time while wading through the shoals
and as we kiss our eyes must close as we are inward gazing
because if we must fall my love, we fall together, blazing
Dawn wakes nature; gold sun I see.
In orange sky it rises bright
with radiance enchanting me.
Dawn wakes nature.
Peeking down, sun shimmers its light.
There is a river running free
where birds are floating – a sweet sight.
As if it heard King Sun’s decree,
one bird, wings spread, prepares for flight
to follow river to the sea.
Dawn wakes nature.
Image #1
He gets up from the death bed
A dream or madness? My thoughts wander
A worrying chill runs down my spine
I throw up hard, then blindly faint
The air grows thick, my vision blurs
Shadows whisper, I hear their distress calls
Silent scares echo through the mortuary hall
My spirit then leaves my body behind
I die. The dead man comes alive
Our spirits go in direct opposite ways
Mine, away; his, back to his body
Fear kills me, mortuary cold wakes him
The dead man tries to wake me
Pours water, gives a kiss of life
Silence greets his frantic shout for help
A cold grip pulls me from reach
Look out you might see them
scuttling down your street
patting the neighbour’s dog
nodding to people they meet
They lurk on hospital corridors
wearing their black shiny shoes
then scour obituary columns
for all their latest news
They follow people on stretchers
to sickbeds, funerals, and wakes
asking for extra cups of tea
turning their nose up at cake
They might just take an interest,
if you should start to feel ill
checking on your temperature
your welfare and your will
So, keep your curtains closed tonight
lock all your windows and doors
the graveyard groupies are coming
it’s you they’re looking for…
It was a a close call;
Twas a misstep I almost fall;
So call in misstep of winters night sun sleeps moonlit wakes;
Despite of the rederick;
I held on to the positives;
Night to dawn:
Shines so bright;
Lightly drinks the fawn;
So call in misstep of winters night sun sleeps moonlit wakes;
In the dark sun sleeps;
As the awaken moon soul dance;
When goes the moon to sleep as well;
The sun shines wakes up and prance;
So call in misstep of winters night sun sleeps moonlit wakes;
It was a a close call;
Twas a misstep I almost fall;
So call in misstep of winters night sun sleeps moonlit wakes;
2/9/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
The abounding nature of a problem is the emblem of certainty
Witty and Brave is a product that lives among humanity
The glory of your story can be found in the difficulty!
Difficulty is what wakes up the genius in the face of adversity
Humans can cope
Holding on to the rope of certainty is a matter of faith!
Therefore, you can use pressure to rise above any situation
Because the treasure inside of you must
Come out through the evolution of pressure!
The fragility of time refines the process
And defines the courage that rages on inside the difficulty
The resilience of innovation is embedded in your imagination and
The abounding nature of a problem is the emblem of certainty
Witty and Brave is a product that lives among humanity
The glory of your story can be found in the difficulty!
Difficulty is what wakes up the genius in the face of adversity
Mark Frank
Copyright 2023
You must never disturb a woman
when she is taking her beauty rest
while floating ashore on gentle wakes
or else she will transform
into a human hurricane
with lots of violent waves
surging right back at you
Spring wakes / soft hues flow
pinks, greens / cast bright glow
Fall starts / long dark rest
Spring sleeps / neath new snow
May 8, 2023
Let Us Rock Five- Wujue Poetry Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Suzette Richards
Rhyme Scheme: a a b a
Before the moon gives reign to the ruling sun, I'm awaked by the crooning of a lover. Not for me does he sing, for he seeks a mate. It's those tranquil moments I treasure, when through my open my window I hear his voice. Sweet love songs in the silence before the waking of dawn beguile me as the world still dreams in slumber. I'm filled with inner peace and a sense of hope. While listening to his dulcet tune, sometimes I pretend his songs are for me. If I had wings I would answer his call with a melody of my own.
avian crooning
lavender sky of morning ~
melodies at dawn
February 24, 2023
It Means a Lot to Me Contest
Sponsored by Gina McIntosh
As This Heart Wakes To Your Soft Touch
Sounding a change a call to arms
echoes in heart's beatings
waging battles against world's harm
found within dawn's greetings
battle yields to heroic light
blessings send, strength to fight
to find a bountiful treasure
wake to again truth see
by love, can one truly measure
life by a sound decree
for 'tis written, heart can renew
again, true love in you
'pon a night of moon's soft glowing
from Heavenly skies cast
spirals of love's sweetest showing
true love forever lasts
dear angel, hold this thought
love's gems we gaily caught
as this heart wakes to your soft touch
dawn its bright waking sings
our deep love held so very much
as flowers are to Spring
darling, await I for night dreams
and your falling moonbeams.
Robert J. Lindley, 6-24-2022
Romanticism
As a reply in form to my beloved wife Clarisa-
to my dear friend , Susan Ashley's
Magnificently beautiful poem, titled
" Whose Muse Elusive Dew ".
Thanks for gifting that needed inspiration..
Dawn sings with the birds
As we stamp the earth at our wake
No one feels amazed at never waking
Who fixes it's emptiness with food
Smoke it's sausages and enjoy it's delicacies
Joy Sparks in every mind
Sweeps every dirt away
Smoothens all edges
Blends every corner of regret
And lots the candle again
Where merriment abounds
A smiling face at dusk
Peaceful heart
Calm and sound mind
Contagious atmosphere
Filling all creature in wonder
The smell of dark coffee brews in early morn.
Such a treat to wake up to, when I’m groggy and worn
I’m not fond of fancy frothy coffee shop brew
None of them will really do
Unless you pour a spot of Irish Cream to fire up a few.
When my girlfriend Susie would come over to stew,
I always put on a fresh pot of dark roasted coffee to brew
I have always been a softy when giving her a caring shoulder
We enjoyed the bliss of coffee and Baileys Irish Cream liqueur
to make us bolder.
Friendship with laughter is a treasure,
with a sip of spiked coffee will always do with pleasure.
When I was young, Mommy would sometimes wake up
looking like a fuddled zombie,
but
as soon as she’d have her first cup of sugary with cream coffee,
she’d be our mommy again cooking us something good for our tummies.
12/3/3021
redo 12/9/2016
''Z'' Contest, New or Old - Poetry Contest 5. zombie
Sponsored by: Constance La France
original title: WAKE UP WITH COFFEE OR TEA
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