Communion
submitted: 07/20/2010
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Sitting beneath a star-strewn midnight sky
On a hill above a spangled city,
The distant drone of traffic driving by,
Owl screech, and a sense of complicity
With all creation, as if the intent
Is entirely this sacrosanct moment:
No matter the cosmos is so immense,
For a fraction it all makes perfect sense.
For the living, those to be born, the dead,
This grand contrivance emerged and was wrought
Over eons from a singular mote
So a human eye might witness the sacred:
Break bread beneath those stars, raise a glass of wine
And share in communion with the divine.
Or, no wine, or bread or appurtenances
Of revelation: let the spirit soar
Without scriptures, creed and such romances
Written by rote with God as dictator.
Earth is consecrated in its being,
Heavens become holy by the seeing
Of them through wondrous eyes.
Jubilation
At being blessed with life, conscious creation
Aware enough to want to celebrate
With song and dance and poetry and paint,
Or sit in silence listening for the feint
Whisperings of transcendence.
Contemplate
Or sing?
Whichever personally holds sway
In observing nature's mystery play.
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Past Comments:07/20/2010 - Very nice sentiments, Dave. Welcome to the site.
-casler
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