Cosmic Dance of Joy

On my way from sleep today music from the Cosmos began to play,
So that upon waking I awoke in the truth of the dream of the stars,
Suns and moons and all elementals singing one song bringing joy
In chorus with all heavenly beings flawless in splendorous beauty,
And I chanced to dance in an everlasting trance washing over me
As sea below and sky above flowed into one in complete harmony
With an alluring verdancy of a new creation in lovely perfection,
And I dreamed this cosmic dream would never come to an ending,
Sending me grief or pain, nor deign to leave me in doleful disdain
With no more gain than some sad sweet memory of what was not,
But might have been on starlit night from long-gone ancient ages,
Yet the cosmic music continues with celestial song sung by angels
With you at center round which creation dances the dance of joy,
And so too I dance an eternal dance of a never-ending beginning,
Lifting my voice to you in whom we live and move and have life,
And I only ask you to dance with me this dance for you forever …


Notes: Escapril Challenge 3

Notes float gently by
Sing to make me cry
From my soul to you
So truly lovely
With taste of honey

Notes float gently
Strike intently
Lay me so low
Only you know

Fine notes float
Enter ears
Catch in throat



Note: A diminished hexaverse is a poem containing stanzas of 5 lines, then 4 lines, then 3 lines, then 2 lines, ending with one word. The syllables in each stanza correspond to the number of lines, i.e. 5 in each line in the first stanza, 4 in the second stanza and so on. This form may contain more than five stanzas.

I would like to thank Yassy, fellow poet and blogger, for introducing me to the hexaverse. Please visit her blog site, and especially read her own hexaverse poem, Springtime.


High Calling of the Artisan (Revised)

As muses conspire to inspire poets and artisans,
Wraiths gather around the gateway of the soul
To emasculate all creativity, to frustrate the pen
Or brush, opening up the floodgate of confusion
To fixate some poor soul on some senseless sight
Or sound ‘n none that’s worth a pound of manure
And all to secure his attention on anything at all
But the intention to create; and thus making him
Into a kind of artistic reprobate who then hates
What he’s not done because he’s taken the bait
Of unseen creatures who only satiate themselves
By stilling the mind and killing all true creativity;
But the good muses pay the price and still play
On numinous harps to sharpen the wit of artistry,
Praying he will dive into the sea of his own soul
And be what he was meant to be by taking hold
Of pen or brush to begin to bring into our reality
What was not before — lyrical poem to be read,
Song to be sung, picture to be admired and more
To heal the hearts of sore humanity in its insanity;
To bring peace to the fires of funeral pyres and
To send love from above around the round world;
To be an artisan fulfilling his most high calling!

Note: First published in September 2016, now slightly revised and republished for the enjoyment (and perhaps edification) of new reader-followers. Blessings to one and all!

Dance With Me This Day . . . And Forever

Dance the dance of life with me in all of its uncertainties,
Dance thru the woods and hills, homes and universities,
Prance like a fawn, whirl ‘n twirl to your heart’s delight
In the bright light of crisp winter morn, born of gladness,
And let sorrow go as you show off your glee in being free;
Oh dance with me! I in you and you in me in sweet liberty!
Turn away from funeral pyre and dance round living fire,
Which will not burn as you turn round and round in joy;
Songs are sung from the heavens, songs of your belonging
To me so freely given to you wholly and true in our unity!
Dance the dance of life with me in all of its uncertainties,
And be not sad; good has come to your door,
Not any bad, with so much in store and more!
So take my hand, come my way to dance with me this day!

Write: Song of an Artisan

Write before the darkness comes
When no one can write for lack of light;
Fight with the sword of the pen
Without sin;
Against the corpulence of fraudulence,
Violence, and wicked opulence;
Fight with the might of words
To be heard round the world;
Write and fight
To appeal to the better part of the heart;
Preach the good news of love
And hope and peace — real possibility
That all wars might cease
If we but put out the fleece
Of light, life and truth
Apart from mere caprice;
Writers and poets, write;
Even by starlight in the night, write;
Artists paint and paint without taint
Of self-adulation and do not grow weary;
Do not faint along the way this day;
Musicians sound your symphonies
Skillfully, brilliantly with dignity . . .
Artisans join together in benignity
For peace on earth, goodwill toward all;
Oh yes, write however you write;
Write before the darkness comes
When no one can write for lack of light;
Fight with the sword of pen or brush,
With notes and quotes and floats,
With throats and coats and lifeboats;
Devote your talents to the gallant art
Of light and life, love and peace . . .