Passage!
Welcome to the Poet's Room, I'm Anthony Hendricks your host. This painting titled "Passage" is my sister Judith's creation. The visual arts frequently stimulate a mixture of emotion and meaning that reach deep places in our psyche beyond logic and reason. They can touch the very core of our being. The place where mythology resides. The beginning of the story; how we rose from crude chemistry and matter into conscious life.
As human beings our consciousness demands that we express ourselves. We seek meaning and a means to express what we discover. The visual arts, music, song, dance, poetry and story telling go beyond simple entertainment and always have. The cave artists in Europe were not interested in just pretty pictures. Their paintings and pictographs expressed a developing consciousness of the world they knew and thought about 35,000 years ago.
Thirty-five thousand years seems to us who are short lived a long, long, very long time ago. Considering that the earth is 4.5 billion years old our prehistoric ancestors are hardly an eye blink away in the past. The evolutionary development that has led to our present dominance on earth in that regards has been meteoric.
The "Passage" hangs over my bed. My sisters painting stimulated my poem "The Passage". The writing process immediate; an ejaculation of words that have hardly been edited. In short, no thinking or analysis went into the writing. The writing came from someplace deep. Call it my muse or intuitive voice; the normal mental faculties totally bypassed. Below is the written words. I have also recorded the poem for listening.
The Passage
Passing through
The Passage,
Sooner than late,
One must come
To know,
The tears inside
All things;
Born in Joy
Ready to
Weep,
For every harmony
A disharmony
No one
Wants to hear;
To Do –
Long lists,
While nothing’s
Being Done;
Time
Hammers
Like
An arrhythmic
Heart;
While flies
On the eyes
Of the child
With
Bloated belly
Suck
What small moisture
Remains;
Dryness
In Oceans
Proves
Salt in tears
Incomprehensibly
Vast;
While this day,
Today
Needs
Soap Opera
Melodies
To maintain
Props
That fall
With
The slightest
Gust;
Any black crow
Holds
More wisdom
Than a flock
Of dictators;
Vultures enjoy
Guaranteed
Employment,
Is why begging
Becomes
A way
For those
Who’s skull
Encases
The greatest brain,
Still striving
To master
The task
Of sticking
The hand
Out
Palm up,
In hope
A full
Screw cap bottle
Of spirits
Grows
To fulfill
One more
Long night;
Many claim
A light
Buried
In humanity
Will shine
After the next
War
To end
All war;
Me –
I see the
Dark –
Chasing
That
Promised light,
Only produces
Exhaustion,
That blows
A small
Candle
Out;
At least
In the dark
Stars
Take comfort
Knowing
They
Live
Millions of
Light years
From here;
If you say
Ah….
Hamlet could have
Written this,
You understand,
I am …
Is….
The Church,
And you’ve
Found
The key;
I’m always
Going
Preparing
Or
Returning
From a walk,
If still,
I make Music,
Weeping
Dry eyed;
Despair –
You say,
Requires faith
In some
Old man
Up there
In a rocking
Chair,
Turned nice
Now,
He’s grown
Too feeble
To Be
Mean;
Always dressed
In
Blue and Black,
If you see
Me coming,
Remove
Your ball cap,
Begin singing
The National Anthem;
Kill some
Roses
To strew
In my path,
Death’s
One thing
Violence
Quite
Another;
Yes,
Go ahead
Read
While
You May,
Sooner
Or Later
We Always
Come to
An End;
The Gift in Truth,
Inside Truth
The Gift,
The Knowledge
Of What matters
And
What doesn’t,
Makes passing
Through
The Passage,
Possible!
Being human comes with gifts and sorrows. Our potential to rise above our animal beginnings appears immense and each individual can make choices that lead toward greater spiritual growth. Our hope being to bequeath future generations a greater consciousness growing toward peace. (To hear the poem read, click on the video below.)
Thank You for Joining Me -- May Peace and Serenity Be Yours!
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