In this highly meaningful: In this highly meaningful poem you speak for all of us. What a relatable metaphor: the demoralizing "stain of ink", the "living tragedy" that seems to block the entry of hope and inspiration.
But what is unsaid still glistens through. You were tempted to give up, but didn't, and the implication is that positive change can happen if we all, as a whole, bear the burden. Brilliant commentary.
I wish that, when I was a: I wish that, when I was a younger person, I could have had the sense to say something like that. It may have smoothed over to very rough patches.
Chuckle Chuckle: I lean left when I write
there is no better angle
underneath lava flow
signifying change
in a world motivated
by fear.
.
No page remains empty
for long. The end cometh
and like Cassandra, I speak
to those who can never
hear me. The gods of greed
will not share. We sing
anyway.
.
Lady A
.
And thank you for that very: And thank you for that very kind comment. I do not think I could have gotten this poem down without the precedent of your cosmic poems.
I'll tell you how I know that: I'll tell you how I know that this came from a place within you yet beyond you: It alludes to ancient wisdom and to universal, esoteric truths. The fact that it poured itself onto the page in your eloquent voice but without the constraints of your preferred forms (appropriate for your other poems but for not this one) is another sign of a finer, wondrous source of inspiration.
Yet it takes skill to funnel higher wisdom onto the page without filtering it too much with poetic interpretations that come from overthinking and second-guessing. And yet you managed to maintain the purity of the message while delivering it in a reliquary of soft, gleaming artistry.
There's no shortcut to a profound relationship with the Almighty. You can't get there any other way but through love. Not the easy, convenient love that falls apart with every gust of emotional wind, but the love you described in this gorgeous and moving poem.
To see in "the faces of our neighbors . . . the Face of Our Lord . . . regardless of what aspects are, or are not, appearing."
Yes! You struck gold. That's what it's about. That's all there is, actually.
A melodic invitation to "weave our common cloth more closely". Amen and bravo!
Thank you kindly for your acknowledgment and support.
Patriciajj's comment led me: Patriciajj's comment led me to this magnificent poem, but leaves me with nothing to say, because she has so succinctly summarized its effect. But, unable to improve upon her comment, I will gladly add my applause for this beautiful poem.
I am so sorry I failed to: I am so sorry I failed to respond to this kind compliment, and I thank you for the encouraging words, even after all these years.
Thank you so much for those: Thank you so much for those kind words and that very validating comment. I am glad you liked the word "Nearing." It comes from the little that I know about Doppler shifts of light in astronomy---red show a moving away, and blue shows a moving near. (I have to thank Edwin Hubble's research into galaxy expansion for first showing me that concept.) That is why Cerulean appears in my poetry as a name, and a named person. Eliot spoke of "blue of Mary's color" in Ash Wednesday and, while I do not think he was then (1927) aware of Hubble's findings, it gives contemporary readers another meaning to bring to that manigificent line,
Thanks again for the comment. The poem could have taken form without the precedent of your Cosmic Poetry.