by Mark A. Rockeymoore
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Rated "G" by the Author.
Print Save Become a Fan
Tamasii: Spirit, Soul
Silently salient moments meander,
motioning towards memory,
recalling minutes, seconds lived
An open call on life itself,
rafters dusted lightly by
thrum with operatic passion
as voices ring unto the heavens,
lifting souls past yearning,
past the duality of daily life,
the joy and the pain combined,
existing, second by second
betwixt heaven and hell.
The still perfection of a winter's pond
silent, ice blessing the sky,
warm and wet,
promising the water beneath
a quick view of the heavens
before hell freezes over yet again,
in preparation for the inevitable
coming of spring.
Barren brown twigs burst brightly,
orange, yellow, green, photosynthetic
promises of life deny the illusion of death,
fulfilling the blessing of cyclic eternity,
as above, so below.
Breath billows, moving air
in visible currents outwards, shaping prana
and bellowing kundalini
as auric colors brighten
in anticipation of the diurnal journey
of brother sun and sister moon,
the body's deep programming churning
endlessly, its mechanisms, machinations,
melancholy; depressed, opressed
by the relentless approach of dotage,
damning youth to obscurity,
laughing at misguided lives,
lived in search of happiness that never existed
as such, simply because beneath the surface,
far below the icy froth capping
the dark well of intentionality
and karmic expectation, only probability exists,
the endless fashioning of cause and effect,
efervescing endlessly, forming unions
with the unbound in anticipation of
And we live quietly,
ignorantly unaware that each moment
is a chance to burst forth from our shells,
to spontaneously combust
as each cell within our bodies unites
in perfect harmony in opposition to control,
concern and concomitant commonalities
that curse days of toil and obscurity
with mundane existence, passing
unremarked upon into the dustbin
of small, meaningless moments
that fill lotus-like leaves of
the soul's incarnate word,
spoken before creation
Simply magnificent, life is.
Subtle, sublime, serene.
Want to review or comment on this
Click here to login!
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Click here for your Membership!
|Reviewed by Sandra Mushi
|A profound and very touching write. Mark, you know you are unique and your words are in a class by themselves, for which I give thanks that you share them with us.
I have decided to go to the eleven thirty mass, Mark - I just can't seem to be able to leave me seat. Lol.
|Reviewed by Nordette Adams
|I've gotten to the point, Mark, where I hear your voice reading everything you write. A deep and spiritual piece you've got here. ~~Nordette|
|Reviewed by jude forese
|"forming unions with the unbound in anticipation of manifestation" is the key to the wisdom of this poem ...|
|Reviewed by Retta (Reindeer) Mckenzie
|This is so beautifully spiritual and powerful, an outstanding poem so deeply moving,
|Reviewed by Gwen Dickerson
|Splendid! How simply magnificent, this poem is! You've woven a brilliant tapestry of metaphysical language and philosophical insight! Bravo, Mark! Bravo!|
|Reviewed by Tinka Boukes
|A simply magnificent offering Mark!!
|Reviewed by Sherry Heim
|A mighty, uplifting and empowering write, Mark. Excellent and exciting as it draws the powers from without and pulls them within. Life is, indeed, magnificent!
|Reviewed by Vesna Perkovic
|Simply magnificent, life is.
Subtle, sublime, serene.
it is indeed..I only wish I would finally accept that as truth.
saved this one ..ty Mark!
PS I truly needed to read this today..
|Reviewed by Chrissy McVay
|Yes, life is magnificent!|
|Reviewed by E T Waldron
|You always leave me in awe Mark! I love the aliteration!
The finale is explosive, bursting with energy! Very
motivating, this could make a sloth want to run;-)!
|Reviewed by Erin Kelly-Moen
|:) Such a paean, Mark, to your journeys and learnings...
I feel infantile in your/my reality, which, I guess, could support a mathematical formula of life-sight I can almost see...
Strangely enough, Mark, the fifth verse I could not finish, at firstm it hurt too much. All else in substance was powerfully exant and hopeful.
|Reviewed by Divinity 11
|BLAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HA HA HA!!!!! This makes me jump and writhe in joy, and pardon the vulgarity but warm between the legs!
The alliteration in this flows with the beat of my shaman drum, causing my pulse to race and physical boundries to fade away...