With Fire

One of my personal riddles

A road begun, so distant.

A masterpiece, insistent.

Divided rolls at parting,

provided each a farthing

with usury demanding.

Each master understanding

not but through a darkened glass.

 

Wayward paths, they were both leading.

The messenger lay bleeding

in darkness, cold and shivering

til light broke forth delivering.

Crystal shards now his to gather,

remains of what was shattered,

at long last to be arranged.

 

Setting forth, but then quick falling.

Ill regard toward the calling.

Dreams bright light fell into dim,

and the mass of Hell crept in,

as the words spoke once in warning

cloak the messenger in mourning,

while eternity peers down.

 

Burning coal, a gift from heaven, 

once bestowed becomes a leaven,

as a single grain begun,

sprouting forth toward the sun.

Calling out, the pathway paving,

lifts the messenger and saving

as the poems penned long ago…

come forth.

 

TBC

Reviews

[Jennifer]

Poem and nice and smooth. I like the flow.

[J.V. Stanley]

Well done on this poem. I agree that the imagery is unique and the relation of coal being a gift from heaven kinda got me. Sometimes heaven will gift one trials which seem like coal at the time but what we mistake as coal as a sour gift, one can use it to warm themselves. Even the coal can be used for good. Well penned and thought provoking.

[Poetic Beauty]

I love the imagery painted in this poem. The mention of hell and heavens gift being coal. Interesting. Poor person given that gift. Wonder if it was deserved