The Easter egg was a: The Easter egg was a mind-boggling find and certainly no coincidence.
Yes, I've seen the images and was beyond amazed, but after reading this moving account of just how powerful they were to you, I'm considering writing a poem about the effects of these indelible images on humanity. I haven't been too inspired to write lately, but you lit a fire under me with your expression. Thank you!
Of course. Robin's egg blue. How fitting. God bless.
Wow! This is exquisitely: Wow! This is exquisitely beautiful. The skillful repetition of the word, Love, makes the poem seem like a litany in a ritual to which only the initiated are admitted and which they, only, fully understand.
I am soooo sorry I failed to: I am soooo sorry I failed to acknowledge this comment in a reasonable amount of time after you posted it. But thanks for the kind compliment.
Thank you so much for: Thank you so much for understanding. Have you seen the photographs from the James Webb? I was overwhelmed by them, and though they depicted a much more distant view, they reminded me of that night in July of 1974. And I just can't turn my back on that. Nor on the gift I found, like an Easter Egg (painted robin's egg blue?), in Thomas Jones' sonnet on Saint Benedict.
Although it's always your: Although it's always your prerogative to change your name, or have as many names as you choose, I always thought your given name, Starward, best tells the story of you. It's the best signature, in my humble opinion, of your journey.
Of course, you're free to disagree with this and change your name at any time, but for now, I'm thrilled that a glimpse of unspeakable splendor brought you back to those amazing moments in your life when you touched infinity and touched Truth.
I never fail to be amazed and moved by all the signposts in your remarkable life and the poetic way you unfold them.
Thanks for sharing this.
Excellent verbal sketch! I: Excellent verbal sketch! I have encountered many people who have the same attitude---especially about the absence of rhyme. And, early in my adolescence, being compelled in a junior high English class to read poetry, I objected to the lack of rhyme; not realizing what a surprise I would get in junior year of high school when we were expected to read John Milton's Paradise Lost over the course of three weeks.
Though brief (which, to me, always goes to the poem's advantage), this poem raises a lot to consider.
Quite powerful. BTW, I sure: Quite powerful. BTW, I sure do like the quotation from the Irish poet, A. E., on your main page. He was the first poet of whom I ever read . . . at the tender age of seven.
Well, Uncle John had a: Well, Uncle John had a dufferent agenda. But you give us verbal beauty in response to the beauty around you; he did not do that, really.
Thank you so much :-) I read: Thank you so much :-) I read this out loud to see if it sounded right when read, boy did I trip over those S's!
Thats the most diabolical thing about my poem. sue. :-)
Excellent imagery. and also: Excellent imagery. and also the sibilance of the several words with "s" in them---that made me think of the sound of breezes moving through the trees. I also thought of a passage from John Milton's Paradise Lost, in which he used sibilance to great effect (but, unlike your poem, the Miltonic passage was describing some diabolical aspects).
Thank you. You always know: Thank you. You always know what to write, and when to write it---which makes your comments more than just gestures.
And your timing is impeccable.