Eric Micha'el Leventhal Poems

For as long as anyone could remember,
there had been a legend among the people,
telling of a group of immortal warriors
who lived in a forbidden temple
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Many of us find it difficult to believe
that events are always conspiring
to deliver to us the object of our deepest desire.
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The meek and the faithful await the Redeemer,
they preach and they prostrate in pulpit and pew;
they bow to Jerusalem, Mecca, Medina,
though none be so great as the Gospel of You.
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Perception is the vessel
through which this world emerges.

Seeing this,
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I am the poet who writes from the ashes
of an all-consuming encounter
at the edge of the world.
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They heated the bowels of the Earth with their fire,
and frolicked and mingled all night and all day.
Without them the warmth of the land would expire;
thus all Earth’s creations relied on their play.
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