The seas roll on at Nature's whim
as winds wail like a theremin.
Yet shines through heavens' inky scrim
the starlight of a seraph in—
or is it an illusion's spell
that tries to penetrate the dark
in cloudy interstellar hell
of lightlessness without a spark? —
while bubble branes in spatial tide
of oceanic cosmic waves
rush onward with celestial stride,
some colliding or in close shaves,
outside our string-dimensioned sphere,
swept out in space-time's quantum flow,
world-volume that is gathered here
into the universe we know…
Did we not heed the serpent's hiss?
Have karmic causes gone amiss?
What existential realm is this
where we seem sunk in an abyss?
Or is it projected despair
that's embodied in outer space
through pitch-blackness manifest there
of a doleful nebula face?
All those queries rhetorical
pertaining to visions widespread
voice viewpoints allegorical
that give vent to downhearted dread.
Earth nights shy away from first gleams
of dawning days transitory.
Though despondency endless seems,
it's only part of the story.
As brilliance and shadow contrast,
or laughter with tears of sorrow,
may hopelessness fade to the past
and there be a bright tomorrow…
an interesting and illuminating poem with a guarantee I think of a bright tomorrow?
Harley, you are so cool! ! ! ! ! I am spell bound by your intellect and how you put so much facts into poetic beauty, you are one of the most unique poets I have ever seen! ! ! As brilliance and shadows contrast, , , , a bright tomorrow to me would be.....reading more of your poetry!
Wow, Bill, I hardly know what to say.. In my poem Genethliac are the following two couplets... ____________________ When in dim creative burn, one struggles just to turn the page— Push on to… and puzzle through… a painful poem’s final stage. Midst seas of jocund companies, I would seek to speak from shore, Hope to leave behind a line of mine that wasn’t there before… ____________________ One composes a poem and then puts it out there for others to see. You are indeed a reader who makes the process worthwhile! Thank you!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Projected despair that is embroidered in space bellowing out a slight of hand, now that I reread this, I think I will place my bets on the doleful Nebula face due to being a heavy smoking galactic smokestack, I find myself coming back many times to reread, one cannot just sit and casually zip through one of your poems
I admit that there is a lot to muse upon in many of my poems. I do that deliberately, of course. Plus this one implicitly includes some of my preferred ideas about the universe and existence. Thanks for rereading it and commenting again!