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Brief, But Metaphorical, Prose
As Starward, I stand on the holy ground that was first shown to me in the events of my own personal history during the years of 1974 and 1975 (briefly), and far more abundantly in 1976, most profusely and intensely during the period Friday, July 9th through Friday, December 31st.
Following Moses' example at the Burning Bush, I cannot approach that holy ground with my flipflops on my feet (a metaphor from my undergraduate years, Thursday, September 9th, 1976 through Saturday, June 7th, 1980). My flipflops are my far too frequent oscillations between screen names, and how I sign my poems.
On a Friday night in July, 1974 (I was not then wise enough to note the specific date), I heard a Voice call me from my bed and direct me to step outdoors, well after midnight, and look at the stars above; to look starward (even though that term was not used in the command I heard). That same Voice, exactly the same, told me later, on Sunday morning, January 9th, 1994, to become a Christian.
A few days ago, I empowered a set of slanderous and abusive slurs, posted in the freedom of speech afforded by this site, to separate me from that holy ground . . . yet again. To do so, I now realize, is a concession of defeat to the slanderer and slurrer.
I pray, for whatever future remains to my lifespan on earth, that I continue to abandon my flipflops that do not belong on the holy calling (in this essay, metaphorized as "ground") of a starward inclination.
Starward
Poetry is quite a significant
Poetry is quite a significant Burning Bush to more than I am able to recognise, so here I plant a moment's salute to such a validation. We can but be true to the calling of yon Muse.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver
Thank you very much for
Thank you very much for reading the poem and for your kind comment.
Starward