contemplativeFor The Ones
So many paths I could take
with disposition of rare ranks
one is mine with small fanfare
the others beckon if I dare
each seems different in itself
yet at their hearts is motives same
they spring from the same deep pools
one set high, the other low.
One is the source for all things
these roads evoke it more than most
gulfs beyond the well’s round mouth
these still waters hide the depths
many colors surround the source
vessels found beneath the eye’s shades
portals to the fount of gods
pupils’ doors, what angels fear.
Second sprung from passion’s hand
honed to cut when life demands
echo of the heart’s regrets
played out loud or burned within
dedicates to truth’s hardships
willing to voice what must be said
longing for another way
one hopes with grace, strength displayed.
Lastly I’ll reveal my course
other than mistress or woman mad
masters of soul and temper’s range
good company that I embrace
I am a poet of lowest rank
student to companions on life’s walk
in time I may be all these things
if grace extends, I’ll attain.
2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20161208.
