Our Sun Will Rise

In collaboration with Nellie Pierce

The sound floats on every wave
Like a message as the apocalyptic comes..
But I swam across the Atlantic
I swam across the Nile
The Lotus Eaters have died,
I am on my way to their funeral...

I come to mourn the pillars of Greece and Rome
Their stately beauty, as the city swarms
Below the rocky outcroppings where stand
Early and passionate monuments to man,
Maker of myths,
Namer of the wine-dark sea...

Ne'er a man defeated but destroyed,
Mere flesh and bones decay.
Albeit they wander the Acropolis,
Or plains of Salisbury,

Though men may plunder them, and take for loot
The heaven-wishes of the ancient kings
Grab artful vases, and crush underfoot
The shards which fall, the victims of their greed.

But I have discerned from this massacre, a groove,
Held it to my heart and the words from these debris,
A ne'erceasing one from Bauls and Cherokees,
Their fairytales or some love songs by travelling troubadours...

This music rises
Like fragrance crushed from myrrh
Bearing with it the sweet smell
Of our mortality
As it breathes under the sere leaves
And the packed dirt
And the dust-draped sepulchers
Where bones bear witness to
The mouth that sang.

Of eras
That gave birth to valiant hearts,
Yet those sepulchers shudder,
At treads of ruthless juggernauts,
Ah, I cry in vain!
Fill their graves, like rivers from rain
With tears I was born to shed
Then again I wallow in musings,
Lords Ladies, princes and kings

Yet what of the others, the ones with no gravestone
Other than flower or boulder or meadow
Even the criminal splayed at the crossroads -
All of them people the primordial gloam
And push up the petal, the tree root, and the stone
Our tears would be the rain, that washes down
The vast inscriptions written in ink turned to dust
That flies off in the whirlwind's merciless gust.

But let's stand amidst them with our cupped hands,
And save the dust that flies away and
Disappears behind a veil of years,
With our tears we shall turn them to clay
To create sculptures standing upright, no gale to mar

Sculptures emerging in the wind
Of commonfolk, no blood on their hands
Anomaly in this world which values cruelty
When it protects our side,
When it smites the enemy.

Retreats the hand that with knavish flick
Once broke down those delicate structures...


Many moons ago I saw their hoisted flag,
But now their reign is over
Now our sun will rise.

Reviews

[HannahW]

stunning. It took me all over the place and brought me back home. I love it :)

[Sahar moonlight]

That was awesome. Very rich poem

[Coyote Poetry]

A amazing poem. You went to many places in this poem. I saw the old place. The leftover of great cities. I saw the great graveyards of war. Both make me feel sad for the waste of life and deeds of evil men. But your last line is face. Soldiers coming home look for the good and the positive things.
"Many moons ago I saw their hoisted flag,
But now their reign is over
Now our sun will rise."
Thank you for your outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[ErinLovesYou<3]

You have such a vast vocabulary, and you have amazing imagery words, along with a spectacular imagination.

[Ripple of Aqua]

So contorted and complex. A voice from many a millennia. Very grand and earth-spoken.

[Derek S.Keck]

This music rises
Like fragrance crushed from myrrh
Bearing with it the sweet smell
Of our mortality
As it breathes under the sere leaves
And the packed dirt
And the dust-draped sepulchers
Where bones bear witness to
The mouth that sang.


You speak from the experience of many lives. You're so much older and wiser than you know. Outstanding!

[msharma]

Excellent way of taking us into the journey of thoughts.