“There I was without a face
and it [poetry] touched me.”
--Pablo Neruda
“And the angel that talked with me came again,
and waked me, as a man that is wakened out of his sleep,
And said unto me, What seest thou?”
--Zechariah 4:1-2
The dancing vortex of a sacred metaphor
swallows a man’s blind broken heart,
impregnates the kidnapped soul of a woman,
crunches diamond skulls into whistling rivers
and splits the great womb of history
with days and nights of radiant progression.
Behind the raw hell of a screaming face
late spring blossoms a mask of emerald summers.
Tireless malice and courageous love claim their seasons.
A cosmic waterfall of antimatter pours and roars
nuclear destruction through cracks in one universe
as it floods another with songs of bright creation.
The dancing vortex of a sacred metaphor
clashes horns and halos to make wounded music
set to the tempo of a new era in brilliant labor.
Cyclonic flames spit bones of silver bells singing
with fresh-born souls sheathed in skins of quantum verbs
and thus we see born what angels call––a poet.
by Aberjhani
from Collected Visions of a Skylark Dressed in Black
(“Angel” art by Kadir Nelson)
Black Skylark ZPed Music Player
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Janna
ecnwogu
Richard
outstanding New Year, xOx Phyllis xOx ``N: Get time, let me know if
you'd mind my posting a l-o-o-o-ng, shaped 'sociological' poem at CTI [related to the challenges we face in this country. . .which now that we will have a president worthy of the name, we may just meet with energy, honor, and integrity. Can't win 'em all, at least win s o m e, right? P e a c e!
Regis
I am honored to have read this piece...
RM Green
Edwin
"What Angels Call A Poet" has the quality in its words like mystic colors that the masters use to put in a canvas and made us wonder for centuries. I don't know what the angels will call the author, but his peers will call him a poet of excellence.
Georg
The dancing vortex of a sacred metaphor
clashes horns and halos to make wounded music
Worthy addition to your angel poems. - David
vivid images effortlessly blended ...
"and thus we see born what angels call––a poet."
that you are, my friend.
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
A depicting of painting developed with colors of the rainbow of wisdom, and etched on acacia wood.
I salute You, Poet.
In respect and admiration,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
One love..... deLeon
And quite the metaphor, and image - absolutely stunning work!!
Best regards,
Lance
What a gift your words are: beautifully imaged and penned. Well done!!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Eileen
"The dancing vortex of a sacred metaphor
clashes horns and halos to make wounded music
set to the tempo of a new era in brilliant labor."
Blessings to you my friend,
Marcia