Someone told me we used to be one
but we were separated -
within each of us
conflicting forces,
wounds
and gardens of metaphors
to help us heal
while evil relentlessly
does
its
work...
I listened
and heard
the bell on my belly,
found
the entrance to our God.
When we truly listen we find more than we realize...whether it is a realization of ourselves or the actuality of God....it is the listening that gets us there...
nice work, Axilea...
Art Sun...
Reviewed by E. Farrand (Reader)
Reviewed on August 23, 2008
"and gardens of metaphors
to help us heal
while evil relentlessly
does
its
work..."
Excellent. This makes me think of all the crackpot doctors, so-called "healers", and a few psychotherapists
Ah, your crafted lines triggered a personal recollection of a cold winter's evening in Feb 1986 when I sensed a gentle yet significant ongoing knocking on the door of my soul. The call of the hand was backed also by the gentle call of a voice gently urging me to open up. I did. Before the night was tucked up under the blanket of soft snow, I entered God and He entered me. In other words 'I listened' and responded.
Thanks, through your words, for enabling the stirring of my thoughts in this contemplative way this evening.
Chimes of the omphalos, centered in the navel, like when Apollo delivered her speech at Delphi, a healing aural portal from the umbilical cord where all things grow as one, and then severed, the silver cord to attain the all-knowing of wisdom and health of the mind, body, and soul, Axilea...be well.
Axilea,
I do not mean to make light of your poem, for it is obviously very deep, but it reminds me strongly of the movie "The Dark Crystal" - where evil and good which used to be one became two separate entities. I like how the ending of this poem has such a positive vibe. Nicely crafted!
Sheila
This one though sad is also pretty deep, loved the line I listened I heard the bell on my belly...and I see I am not alone in that, but it just has such a nice ring to it if you will pardon the pun
hugs
Chere Axilea your poem fills me with wonder. You will get the response in yourself even before your question is formulated and only from your God. Bravo, c'est merveilleux. Love Emile
Enjoyed this poem Axilea. You have created a myth. I often think of how many people talk to God, asking for favors or answers, and how few listen. Especially liked:
I listened
and heard
the bell on my belly,
found
the entrance to our God.
Dear Axilea,
Souls get lost in your poetry. They enter into your lines, unaware of the forces that will pull and drag them in. They wander around your verbal, herbal gardens, gathering sprigs of medicinal words, stoop over the blossoms, inhale the atmosphere (which is inevitably deep and hypnotizing). Some time later, they wander out the end, turn around, and wander the length again, plucking visuals to tuck in their lapels and pockets.
Souls get lost in your poetry, finding bits of truth to take home with them. I love the beauty of that-- the paradox that this piece of poetry where others enter and lose themselves, is about finding your own soul, encased in a greater truth, that lies not outside in another's "garden of metaphors", but within the poetry of which you, yourself are made-- Let the bell ring! So glad you listened. --Me, in awe of the God who made you, Charlie :)
The captivating music of birds and the enchanting beauty of roses have, each in their own right, inspired people around the world for as long as anyone can remember. How the two combine with the challenges faced by a struggling writer in Georgia to c
The captivating music of birds and the enchanting beauty of roses have, each in their own right, inspired people around the world for as long as anyone can remember. How the two combine with the challenges faced by a struggling writer in Georgia to c
Share
Print
Save
Follow
nice work, Axilea...
Art Sun...
to help us heal
while evil relentlessly
does
its
work..."
Excellent. This makes me think of all the crackpot doctors, so-called "healers", and a few psychotherapists
In admiration, gene.
i found myself seeking to listen ...
Thanks, through your words, for enabling the stirring of my thoughts in this contemplative way this evening.
Regards
David
Love,
Sage
I do not mean to make light of your poem, for it is obviously very deep, but it reminds me strongly of the movie "The Dark Crystal" - where evil and good which used to be one became two separate entities. I like how the ending of this poem has such a positive vibe. Nicely crafted!
Sheila
You've got that right. Listening and hearing are two seperate entities. Peace, Love and Blessings Always, Paul.
hugs
Fee
I listened
and heard
the bell on my belly,
found
the entrance to our God.
- David
always,i love your style and your expressions,
stan
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Christine
Souls get lost in your poetry. They enter into your lines, unaware of the forces that will pull and drag them in. They wander around your verbal, herbal gardens, gathering sprigs of medicinal words, stoop over the blossoms, inhale the atmosphere (which is inevitably deep and hypnotizing). Some time later, they wander out the end, turn around, and wander the length again, plucking visuals to tuck in their lapels and pockets.
Souls get lost in your poetry, finding bits of truth to take home with them. I love the beauty of that-- the paradox that this piece of poetry where others enter and lose themselves, is about finding your own soul, encased in a greater truth, that lies not outside in another's "garden of metaphors", but within the poetry of which you, yourself are made-- Let the bell ring! So glad you listened. --Me, in awe of the God who made you, Charlie :)