HEAVENLY CREATURES

Thunderous is her rage; mother to my life and yours

The ancient spark lights up the dome with beams brighter than Saqqara’s catacombs,

He is born, he is born!!

The birds have groaned yet a heavens’ breath is the hand nesting the bird,

Merriment is my home for the light he tenaciously bore when the heavens shook

He answered my calls, his providence I beseeched and his holy book,

I let my legs fly to the wind that carries me like a lilac in weather-green wonderment

And I splash the waters and push forth the motion of time, yet something must’ve befell me,

A dreamless child must the water flee, for its depth is a whirlpool to time

But I march under the spell of my conceit, and in the waters I seek a dime,

Thereby steep are the seas’ swirling mouths to the belly that feeds and nourishes

But the soil was sown in genesis; wheat faces sunshine, blooms and flourishes.

 

 

She dances briskly in her grandma’s home-sown gown of dreams and haze

An orb of light she is to the beholder of old days; a fragrant lily to her vase,

She stops and kneels for the exuberance of a biophilic soul is measureless

When the rays fleeing heaven put a soul in a trance; presumptuous is the fathomless,

Eccentric is her grin, makes one gather a chin, yet they may wear the seraphic guise

Under the spell of ancient harmonies, Demeter caught the serpent in thrice,

In his dominion, a oasis of light is born out of every frightening strike

And he bestowed out of his grace the bearers and the heralds to visit his mortals once

Alas! Twice, Thrice, and as long as man kneels in his frailest frame!

The heart that burns and the void that aches, she mends with fragrant pollen daisy

Tiptoeing to the falling waters, then glides under the flakes of winter nights

And the crimson pomegranate is her shade when she tires and feels queasily lacy,

She sits by the bonfire and lets go to the shackles of unrealized nostalgia

Humming to the deafening serenades of the timeless flute besides the wispy magnolia.

 

 

The heavenly gates have opened for the wind to blow prodigious life

For the blacksmith’s ironed shoulder and the farmer’s golden wrist, and who grapple with strife,

The strings are rung in the vastness of a soil so green, so green as a lush meadow

Heavenly creatures struck a gaze at eachother’s profane frame, under a lurking crow,

They crisscrossed their banks to the place where the other serpent spoiled the joy

The profane is so since power defies the rule, and deliriously she fell for a hellion boy,

Time defied the flow of the ship to our captains, yet tranquility on shore is mutiny

When thy spirit must soar, for thee are the beads to the neckless skies,

The tide may arise and disrupt linear bliss; albeit of Hades’ spells of sea craze

Boundless of space, airless as clouds, the petals grow fair under his gentle blaze,

Broomed by the whistling winds are the hairs left in her bamboo bower

Yet the seeds are sown for a flower to born out of unknown muddiness, under heavy shower.

 

 

Romeo was doomed to the scent of fatal dwellings and musings

Yet he befell joyous repose when Mors struck his blade; his time diffusing,

Unity was promised in the timeless decrees of prophecy and creation

The fall might sweep the dust of frustration, yet his decrees are the solemn path of salvation,

The tide that was split for the believer to abstain off blasphemy, has loosened

Its grip upon the banished; passion is the remedy to the fading flesh of the contusioned,

The silky gown of ancient genius has shone, my heart must fly for the chirping sits lighter

Upon a soul made brighter, when passion zeniths the sloppy mountains of Eiger.

 

 

Her bosom is the temple to seven wonders, yet one more, beyond, facing the night

For he who seeks flight from the grace of the one with might, may be made frightened

When Eden he evades, and his march under profane mist dims out his light with blight,

I might have struck empty walls in the slyly musings of a blind childish crawl

Yet the goblet of Nestor bequeaths eternity, and the light dissipates the vapor

And boulders erupt for his waters to roam, to rise and fall; to itch new life then fall

His decrees are the thread by which our fate is tied to the stars we hypnotize and savor.

 

 

Reviews

[Fia Naturie]

I enjoyed this." Romeo was doomed to the scent of fatal dwellings and musings" Really good

[Chris Shaw]

An epic write is your Heavenly Creatures with a feast of poetic expression. Beautifully creative. I read it twice. Some wonderful lines. Too many to single out. Well penned.

Chris