It's not somewhere over the rainbow
Or beyond Mother's breath.
It's not in the devices of ancient
Or modern hands.
I almost touched it in my pathos
A few times-- gravel bed filtering
A bitter water table perhaps.
The tender leaf of spring feels it
In autumn: the unconditional
Acceptance of the inevitable
Morning frost
Cold relentless rains
And merciless sun.
So far removed from the
Upright position at the computer
Desk.
No mystery here.
No wild cry in the night.
Only electronic and organic
Bleeps and drones.
There I heard it again--
The lost chord the missing links.
The near-extinct creatures understand it.
We sometimes feel it nearer in our shared
Reptilian brain seldom penetrated through
Our domineering eyes planted firmly in front
Of the gray dross from an evolutionary
Fire that we spend our given time on
This planet trying to douse when the rest
Of creation knows the need for its
Purification and leaps willingly into its
All-consuming heart.
Fear of the unknown
Fear of fear itself
Keeps us estranged from the cosmic
Mysterium.
Awaken in me oh wondrous limbic mind.
Alter my deluded consciousness
To what you have seen through the
Unknown eons. Help us take to the fire
We only catch a whiff of in the twilight
Of our fears. Rise through the dry brown
Leaves of our once tender green vision
Of an ever-changing cosmos.
Howl a bit louder in our darkness.
Howl until we cease our chatter and
Learn to listen to your serene silence.
This faint vibration sensed in Eastern minds.
A little less organic a little more
Limbic reptilian crawling closer
To the pulse of the earth.
Thicker skinned. Scales instead of
Thin soft unprotected flesh
Needing protection from extraneous
Sources to cover what should
Be eternally naked
Bare to the elements
Not limited to a frail carcass which
Will ultimately be left behind as we
Enter myriad temples to join in worship
With the rest of creation. To be the
Burnt offering at the foot of the eternal
Idol unseen voice ineffable yet
Waiting to be obeyed in individual
Fashion not in mass procession.
As individual as one spark igniting
A plot of trees newly released by mythos
Revealed ever so slightly in the wake of
The burial of the Western mind steeped in
Temporal tradition fermented in oak casks
Which were made to remain and grow in
Their virgin state.
The tribal drums and chants are a distant
Whisper of the origin of this human
Calling and beyond Thoreau's distant drummer.
I sometimes detect the most ancient rhythms.
We may follow our own drummer but are
We prepared to give in to what we will
Inevitably meet in the end?
Copyright © 2009 Daniel Irwin Tucker
All Rights Reserved.
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Comments: 30
Awaiting more.
Blessings ~
Rene
From the first stanza alone, I really liked
"Or beyond Mother's breath."
and
"I almost touched it in my pathos"
Looking forward to more of yours. Salut.
Howl a bit louder in our darkness.
Howl until we cease our chatter and
Learn to listen to your serene silence.
But these lines are my favorite. So glad I found your poetry.
NATHAN Kamran said, "At first I thought it was about death. Now I think it's about a lot more." It is about a lot more. It's about 21st Century living and technology. You hit it right on when you said, ". . . as we move into this era of simulated reality." That's definately a part of it; but there is still a lot more. I'm glad you liked it. Cheers.
MARIE. . . Actually, I love it when someone doesn't think they understand a poem! Poetry has traditionally been looked upon as painting with words. A poem can have purely esthetic qualities and seem cryptic to even the most decerning critic.
So, Marie, you're in good company! Also, a poem can mean one thing to one person, and mean quite a different thing to another. I can read a poem over and over through the years, and get something different each time. Good poetry is usually measured by these qualities. Thank you for your comment, and for dropping by. Cheers.
Some people think this poem is mainly about the afterlife. But, actually, it's about living. It's about the human race returning to things we've lost through time. Indispensable, innate characteristics. A sort of de-evolution.
This is the kind of subject matter that can't be put in a nutshell. I ellaborate on it in my book, Phantom Pain. Actually, since this subject is of the very essence of being human, it's in most of my writings in one form or another. My forthcoming book of prose delves into it deeper. Btw, I didn't mean for this to be a plug for my book. Cheers.
I'd like to know more about the books.
"an evolutionary
Fire that we spend our given time on
This planet trying to douse when the rest
Of creation knows the need for its
Purification and leaps willingly into its
All-consuming heart."
People use their right to scoff at all things eternal because "[they want to] follow our own drummer" with little thought their drummer is not preparing their minds to be in tune with life now, and the life hereafter.
jewels glisten through time
morph to metals and plastic
memes and mores
dreams and wars
sun star burns it all to ether
stories and stores
skeptic and believer
So glad that I didn't miss this Daniel!
It is wonderful!
I, the universe
Blessings and best wishes - S.
JENNIFER> It's all about balance! We live in a broken, imbalanced world. You're right about re-connecting with the oneness of all things. We live such lonely, empty lives when we constantly listen to the spin-doctors telling us that we need this, that and the other thing to be fulfilled. We need to get to know ourselves again. We have to learn to be quite and find our place in solitude; and learn to book time to visit these remote islands in the distracting flesh and electronic seas. Thanks for the feature!!!
You seem to have a special vision into everyday things and emotions. Thanks for posting to Fugitives from Ignorance, Conformity, and Peer Pressure.