One day, not distant, not far,
Awoke I to an orange ball of light,
a marble of fire in the heavens,
Laid I my boot upon its neck,
striding into the distant stars,
Never I a glance over my shoulder,
eyes turned to the mysterious universe,
There I became lost within the void,
finding that for which I had searched,
Lifting I fingers of contradiction,
truth pulsed beneath my callous skin,
Knowing I am one with creation,
that creation is one with all,
this day, this moment, this now.
©2017, Donald Harbour
An extraordinary poem Don! Some might find the language too old-fashioned for their taste but of course you have selected a style of language that reaches way back to Early English and your poem is almost an incantation, all of a piece with timeless visions. It’s an expression of an epiphany. Most interesting. Happy new year by the way. John
(PS: A couple of typos in lines 1 and 2: too distant, too far, an orange – please edit this parenthesis out)
Thanks John, never write poetry late at night with two fingers of Talisker in your hand.
Beautiful. Thank you.