TIME DIES AS IT EXISTS The hour was attached to it's sequence In the senility of time it belonged By a literal sense, in the present tense It died as the day went along
Phoenix feathers of stroke Rebirth of the dozens by morn Within the predictions of scope Dancing towards death when reborn
The hour was attached to it's sequence It's fate as those of before By a literal sense, in the future tense It danced on the seconds once more
To stumble round sixty marks Gyrate on eternity's hips As the phoenix flies in an arc
The title alone I could dine out on for weeks, Anita. And the picture is totally captivating. And as for gyrating on eternity's hips... I could murder you for that one!!!!... But, of course, I won't me little feathered friend... You are on top form as ever with this one, my dear. LOL Kuckoo Kate xx
Reviewed by Malcolm Watts (Reader)
Reviewed on July 27, 2006
Nice rthym in the piece. I like this kind of poetry. Malcolm Watts
"time is such a sublime realm, in which what you call past, present, and future exist inter-relationally. That is, they are not opposites, but rather parts of the same whole; progressions of the same idea: cycles of the same energy; aspects of the same immutable truth" from "Coversations with God"
...and we won't realize the moments any longer. Time is, indeed...precious. The value of a minute is priceless.
You always make so much sense.
I love your poetry.
Susan
Reviewed by Christine Christine (Reader)
Reviewed on July 25, 2006
This is a great write!, I love the graphics you put with it also!
Gwen
One of your most intriguing philosophical writes, steeped with those inevitable ponderings of life and death.It truly is a mystery - being alive and dead at the same moment.
The first death is unavoidable for us, for it is appointed unto man once to die. The second death however is avoidable, and requires wisdom and a monumental decision in this life.
A very intense write..
It reminded me of what one of my old bosses said to me once when I was an apprentice..
" From the moment you are born....You are Dying "...
Intensely moving is this solid write Anita that captures the past, present and future in the movement of time. Great visual and verbal images in this one that push the reader into considering each line carefully and reading a second and possibly third time. Well done.
A scientist/philosopher explores the mysteries of existence in a highly personal quest for answers to life's ultimate questions, forging a bridge between sterile science and spiritual values -- a scholarly work for all who seek wisdom, truth, true fr
Explains the realizations that have given the author the views of living life fully. The life each person dreams about.
You must take a look at yourself before dreams can be reached.
Deciding what is the core of belief.
This book chronicles an infinite allegoric odyssey of Absolute Awakening in which a learned man, a mute man, and a recluse woman are the principal players. The mute and the recluse are the learned one's Teachers and Guides on his journey of Enlighten
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Love and Peace, B&R
Love & Light,
Joseph
You've given me yet more to think about today. Thanks!
Time I guess is just a measurement from one point to another...
your poem exemplifies such understanding ...
You always make so much sense.
I love your poetry.
Susan
Gwen
The first death is unavoidable for us, for it is appointed unto man once to die. The second death however is avoidable, and requires wisdom and a monumental decision in this life.
You Rock Poet!
Richard Lloyd Cederberg
Love Tinka
Time was created for Man's sake, to compose seasons, and create boundaries, with which we could exist inside of, in an orderly fashion...
And you, Genius with a Pen, always quite handily, bring these incredible truths about -snap! - like that, with your poetic musings.
You have an incredible gift, Anita, to glean truth from everything!
Love, Rhonda
I agree with Felix below completely...
A very intense write..
It reminded me of what one of my old bosses said to me once when I was an apprentice..
" From the moment you are born....You are Dying "...
Fabolous graphic compliments the poem
Peter
Fee