"Sketchbook Creation ~ The Tree of Life" by Kim Nelson
Let’s
Ponder
The Notion
Of The Great Creation…
Do you think that existence began this way?
With God making sketches in books?
Did She sit up above, in a heavenly café, slef
And plan out uniqueness’s? Nooks?
Were patterns determined or did they emerge
As She played with ideas flowing fast?
Did it all come together, in an energy surge?
And were we, in Her likeness, really last?
Or did she plan us first, then conjure the rest
So that we would adore and obey?
Then wait ‘til the universe looked its best
Before opening Eden to play?
And in the end
It was good.
I wonder,
Was it all
For our
Pleasure
Or Hers?
And does it even matter?
to embrace green hills,
to hold heart-close
spring’s pulsing thrill.
With passion flush,
and grateful tears
I gaze on the forest
for I know you are near!
I can hear your song
in the sea-borne breeze.
Your golden voice fills
green lilting trees.
Oh give me more wine!
Your grapes and your vines,
make the night sublime
with spring’s sweet life,
eternally bounding
from boundless time.
We saw nothing on the wind-glazed surface,
nothing floating in the spume as we steamed
across her last position on the chart;
no scrap of cargo, not a boiler suit,
nor a crumb of last night’s rice.
In the dark we’d talked
in bursts of dots and dashes,
that other man and me.
We’d clung in chairs chained to the deck,
one hand on the tuning knob
chasing each others' warbling signals
as masts swayed
and phosphor-bronze aerials swung out
wild over the troughs;
the other hand thumping a big brass key -
in the cyclone.
It was sixty years ago – she flew the flag of Pakistan,
a new country. But the ‘Minocher Cowasjee’ was old
I now discover – launched as ‘Parisiana’
by Irvine’s yard in Hartle pool, where my father -
back from his war with Kaiser Bill – might well
have hammered rivets into her, hard against
his own dad’s hammer on the other side of the plate.
Three miles down they’re rusted now, those rivets;
strewn about, forgotten, like Asian mother’s tears.
She’s just another hull – after all,
the ocean floors are flung with ships…
Dig and write, you may be amazed at how creative you are, by simply trying without worrying about the outcome or feedback…best, hope to see you in the party, chicks…
May Birthdays for Fellow Poets In The Community:
May 3, Goldenhairbear10
May 6, C. http://darkestdivide.wordpress.com/
May 15, Mia, Luna Wanes
May 22, Wordsalad at, Luke Prater
May 26, Wondrinsoul: Wondrinsoul
May 29, Meirozavian: http://www.meirozavian.wordpress.com