So blows this life into the mind
where lives a thoughtful energy
and it joins and dissipates the force
that once was paramount.
And in this mix creation’s orb
shrinks and shrivels, disappears
and becomes a servant to dis-ease
clothed in shredded leftovers
of its former glory.
To search and find and reinstate
what once made life worthwhile
like a chore unlisted on the board
of human existence.
Lonely is the voice in time
that calls with silent needfulness
for thought to rise and fight, fight, fight,
the dictates of a mortal life.
Creation’s orb is there somewhere
tattered, torn, not as before,
so blows this life into the mind
again, again, till death the end!
Helen / 22 September 2009
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Your poetry really tells me to free my mind from way beyond of my imagination. This line “Lonely is the voice in time, that calls with silent needfulness,for thought to rise and fight” suits me well. Your are a wonderful poet Helen, your words can inspire those uninspired.
Thank you so much for your comment, Jens. I think thoughts can fight but most times we don’t think them long enough for them to adequately arm themselves. However, sometimes even a fleeting thought can suddenly rise up in our actual experience and so I remain confused. Here’s to confusion!
Regards
Helen