A Solstice Song

to the one true god.

A SOLSTICE SONG

O my Sol--in my one and humble stand,

no finer hand has played my body than thine.

No other could be so catholic in giving,

so regal in simplicity, so munificent in nurture.

Humility, endow me. Smooth your alien salve

on the grieving house of man. Bleed we outrageous souls

who long for neither left nor right, but to balance both extremes.

Ego, release me. Spare your hobbled prey

the clearer sense to disregard the senses.

Thy highest aspiration is solely Self: the ignominious rape

of all that garners, squirms, or gleams.

Vengeance, survive me. Butcher without qualm

that naked beast who squanders virgin eyes,

who wanders mist to shadow, pincers poised,

throughout the heaving veils and vulgar truths

our minds construe as dreams.

O my Sol--cauldron of the heavens, shepherd of my eye,

muse to mark that cherished pulse that resurrects my spine--

Condemn to thine inferno all who desecrate this well!

Suck into thy leaping flares each poison man has sown:

Burn out this stone!

O my Sol--lure of my vein, lamb in my wound,

cure to treat my fleet and tender vine;

for this gift of life I thank thee twice:

once, when first I held thy goodly eye,

once again, with tinder, when I die.

Don’t miss my collection of poems

Out Of The Whirl

available on Amazon at:

Out Of The Whirl: Sanders, Ron: 9798671245547: Amazon.com: Books

My stories collection Wild Stuff is also available on Amazon, at:

Wild Stuff: The Collected Tales Of Ron Sanders - Kindle edition by Sanders, Ron. Literature & Fiction Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com.

TALK TO ME at: [email protected]

Author's Note

GayJ gonna getcha. He gonna getcha. Suck my Frodo, halfwit.