The world holds mysteries we may never fully know,
Divine visions to illuminate the visions of falling snow.
Some mysteries enticing, our imaginations to ensnare,
Secrets that if revealed would our tender hearts scare.
Mythical animals, the snow leopard, and Ultima Thule,
Folk tales designed to thrill us told in grammar school.
Dawn awakens, day unfolds, shadows cross the ground,
The world magically turns on its axis, all with no sound.
Some mysteries tell stories you may never want to know,
Malevolent visions that would steal the very light of snow.
The suffering of little children cradled in a mother’s arms,
Whispered entreaties to Heaven sounding as sacred psalms.
Bold untruths become old grievances a person couldn’t bear,
Lies that trace a latticework of deceit the innocent to ensnare.
An accidental death steals an unsuspecting life in its prime,
Lost in a hopelessness that finds resolution only beyond time.
Ancient mysteries still exist that will never be fully revealed,
They retain their secrets no matter how much we appealed.
Some mysteries roam about wild and free in the land of Nod;
Other mysteries no boundary to breach in the land of God.
We climb mountains to reach a high point in search of light,
In a desolate world, we the last man on the horizon of night.
We know God has taken care of innocent sparrows and bees;
As we sit in shadows waiting for the light of all those mysteries.
Thrive throughout modern(?) day. Some are, in fact real, some figments of imagination. Whether real or not what is real are the reality of the pursuit.
Every since the beginning of time man has chased after mysteries.
At the end of a lifetime we realize that some have been unfolded some have not and some were never meant to be uncovered or understood. Only felt with the heart. You have a wealth of wisdom inside of you, and you know your material, have a wonderful day, full of awe and inspiration John xo
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
Love ya!
Jane
At the end of a lifetime we realize that some have been unfolded some have not and some were never meant to be uncovered or understood. Only felt with the heart. You have a wealth of wisdom inside of you, and you know your material, have a wonderful day, full of awe and inspiration John xo