The New Life: First Stage For Marie Poem by Daniel Brick
The New Life: First Stage For Marie
A plethora of small things
piles up in the back regions
of the mind. There is room
for many more, so they keep
tumbling in. Oh, they are
so quiet, being three parts
humble, only one part proud.
They are nourished by the Mind's
own light, so they require neither
food nor beverage. They like
to visit the heart whose
beating is the music they adore,
or they cluster in the back of
the brain, and watch closely
as synapses make intelligence
happen. Some have been
been known to withdraw,
and count for hours, as others
smile over them. Wise people
I have consulted tell me
they are counting the world's
blessings, and their delight
is in knowing they will never
come to an end of the list...
Meanwhile, I draw closer to
the small things. Being as nimble
as air, devoted always
to the LIGHT itself, they
cling to me, going where
I am going. wherever that
might be....
(to be continued)
that as long as I follow the flow of my imagery and do not violate its integrity by jumping ahead to an abstract notion, I can eventually discover what I am searching for. I do have a goal in mind but I must approach it indirectly, so to talk about it now would be counterproductive. I must patiently await the arrival of the images; when they do, I can begin casting about for the appropriate words. That much of this task - the acquisition of a knowledge not of this material dimension - lies in the future makes it even more exhilarating.
Very interesting. I have a plethora of small thoughts in my mind and I'm not sure if they will ever fall away from me. Illuminating poem.
How much these useless things falling away from me - irritate us in this life, cause they seem to disr=tract us from bliss! But may be it is also a sin against creation - to think so? i also think a lot on this topic! we all almost hate the real material world! and saints i n thei books too! but may be - it is all OUR own fault, an creation is blessed nd in this form, except we fell too low in ourselves and suffer because of it?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 10:40:03 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Daniel, this is far more than fantasy. And you will discover that throughout the process of this intriguing series of writings. And that process will hold all of us on the edge of our seats. Great start on this adventure!