Sacred Song

Sacred Song

Sacred song sung in
Hallowed hall;
Honored voice springs forth.

Havoc now birthed
In chaos beneath.
Life roars to life,
Signals sound in the deep.
     Chaos whispers
     In the deep of the night
Wondering . . .
Translucent fright;
Knowing.

Thunderous joy from beyond all once known
Just beneath
     The deep cry
Site has brought life;
And death to the dead of the night.
A source unseen
The light has come.

Array the light;
The light does array!

Chaos squirms
Chaos shivers
Chaos quivers
     takes flight
     takes flight!

Fleeing!
Sleep dark one, sleep;
     Dissipate.
Never again to reign;
Supreme!

A glimmer of hope has burst violently forth,
Marshaling order
In triumphant light;
Renewal renewed
Among the cursed of the deepest curse

Sacred song now sprung;
Let there be . . .
     Let there be . . .
          Let there be . . .
Light!

Poem: Disembodied

Disembodied

Crafted by Biz Gainey

To love that which is loss of worth

Descent in pain;

Wanton birth.

Warped to fit both large and small;

Dis-heartened.

Without hope;

None and all.

Such has the stained touch print of man.

This breech of hand and heart replete

These twain once part in fatal retreat.

This thread now frayed

all boundaries flee;

Brings to aim a frightful plea.

To love that which is loss of worth

Awash in a mist;

Barren self defeat.

Razed to dust,

Blown lone a green sea.

Love’s lost worth?

Its center;

Me!

Poem: To Love

To Love

That which I love

I slowly become.

A thin whisper of night;

 hollowed face in the sun.

This life we now live,

Marked by that which we chase,

Grasping at dreams 

     soaked in soul starved space;

Yet to love is not wrong

For how could it be?

Its beauty captured in song

Initialed on tree

Boldly exclaimed

The world all to see!

For to love is to be;

To bear witness to we!

Yet that which you love, beware;

         Quenched shall it never be.

So we chase . . .

Love unbound

Eternity’s fierce hound

In sheer delight of pursuit

There is no danger known

No life dethroned

No walk . . .

No step . . .

No grasp  . . .

Nor control . . .

Will break down the bough of the

Pursued

Well loved soul!

No empty space.

No time without place.

That which I love

I slowly become.