Retrospective Review Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Once, before hell and civilization,
dwelt a race which no alphabet knew,
refuting computing of station,
top-down hierarchical view.
Then Nature received veneration
for its fruits, for its first-born in health,
there Time timed with seasons' sensation
providing heart shelter, mind wealth.

Today's tallied disinformation
were unknown, hopes were sown and crops grew,
simplicity's anticipation
questions put How? Where? Why? yet so few.
Who then knew of the concepts of nation,
of the 'Now Dare and Try! ' which as such
seem a substitute scheme to 'creation'
a mind-saving systemized crutch.

Then the flow more than permanence counted,
then was Nature of interface guide,
no need for race, steed to be mounted,
no seed but would blossom beside
the stream of unconscious connections
as each was in all, all in each,
no need for trace, gain, greed, projections,
for the tired tainted trammels of speech.

What remains of their morn’s mighty splendour?
What sustains songs of sunsets sans stress?
In the halls of their fathers who’ll render
tales to children no mother may bless?
What remains of the deeds of their glory?
What, again, of traditions of old?
Who now hears as pain’s wind sheers its story
of bold flames whose cheer, weary, went cold?

Whose the chord to record the romances,
or sorrows of morrows unmet,
where fair maid shared fond feelings, when glances
unconcealed bade sword blade bane forget?
When the grock over lock took precedence,
the sharing of spirit and soul
when all from the same antecedents
took stock, mocked not need to bead whole.

What may come when the sleeper awakened
keys to world whose clime drowns in its climb,
what will come when when the wish to save bacon
galls, falls on stye style served with grime.
Will when prime time is rasher forsaken
with an angst which will not spare a dime
nor care as much once all is taken
to feather nest safe and sublime.

What won’t float when the polar bear slender
finds no ice after long arctic night,
when no cub rubs its fur, greets gest tender,
when no echoes from floes flow, delight.
When wild inuit igloo’s converted
to concrete precast, damp beset,
noses runny but unrubbed, perverted
by ways which traditions forget.

When the eskimo old intuition
deserts to deride dog and sled,
when the desert oases’ condition
frizzle-frazzles with wadi instead
of a mist dew-drop welcome transition
from night into day finds its bed
dry as dust while hot winds recognition
remove tracks from caravan led.

As the sealine relentlessly rises
will Bangla-Desh founder before
non saline solution surprises
send answers unknown heretofore?
Will the global economy’s prizes
turn mirage, upset more and more
by climate which life compromises
with temperatures higher in store?

What remains of free plains, hope’s resemblance,
of cloud-chains of feather-light dove?
Who now weaves eve’s neap tides in remembrance,
leaves foregathers to tree [w]ebbing love?
Will the echo of these reach the stranger,
breach wall-veils which beached centuries build,
will their ways wend again to warm manger
and prophecy foster fulfilled?

Turn towards love's rewards and cocooning,
far from madding crowd's troubles and cares,
what is best in life's quest may be spooning
where affection, reflection, one shares
multi-modally, cold all see banished
to roast in hell-fires while desires
are offered bliss-kiss, Dis hiss vanished,
together with one who inspires!

May verse capture the rapture of living,
And giving, forgiving, combine,
Understanding disbanding misgiving,
Dream reels fuse real world, feels words align
Expanding soul's consciousness finding
CORpus delicti judgements unfounded,
'RIght' 'wrong' from Fate's wheel reel unwinding,
ERASing all flaws, soar unbounded!