Yet as this new-sprung prince of undiscovered sterling qualities made to enter the immense cordon thorn lance-a-lot barricade the thicknightet hedge theurgically parted only to close again after his advance opening into redolent wild roses devoid of their prior barbed prongs. And even these sweetbriars bent aside and gave way until the now-present-prince found himself in my perfumed palace gardens …
Time and again at break of morn
a coral tone will dawn adorn.
Magenta heralds night’s release,
a halt in sunlight’s golden fleece
to moon and stars in darkness sworn.
When from the living left forlorn
our earthly mortal days are torn,
is this a mere unsung caprice
time and again,
no threnody on heavens’ horn
with being of existence shorn?
Or could there be a cryptic crease
as part of cosmic masterpiece
where all that died would be reborn
time and again?
Our search won’t cease for that cryptic crease. – mh clay
When stars come out in dark of night
they simply reappear in sight.
How would they flee the light of day
or to what reaches fly away?
Appearances deceive indeed
we’ve seen exalted truths decreed
like Ptolemy’s dethroned, amen,
by Galileo’s greater ken.
Are ‘black holes’ what they’re said to be
or something else we do not see?
And what preceded that ‘big bang’
assumed as how creation sprang?
Repeatedly it must be faced
that what we know will be replaced
by deeper knowledge, still in flux,
for certainties may miss the crux.
What thought can fathom vast expanse
of universe’s cosmic dance?
Is death the end, or like a sleep?
Oh may a seeking mind we keep
eternal as our queries seem
thus as stargazers dare to dream
and let imagination cry
there must be more than meets the eye!
Cry, Imagination, Cry! There must be more… – mh clay
With rare international cooperation, Cassini–Huygens took off into the skies. Thus, in nineteen ninety-seven, the creation began to develop before our eyes of the two-decade venture which came to a close with last gazes at giant Saturn’s face to merge with its surface in dramatic death throes as the spacecraft perished with glowing grace. But before that transpired another splendid …
I’d glide away into the cosmic flow
in quiet of the canopy of night
to leave the tumult of the world below
with wishes having wings to guide my flight.
In quiet of the canopy of night
the stellar orbs cast light in shining beams.
With wishes having wings to guide my flight
their faces seem a universe of dreams.
The stellar orbs cast light in shining beams
as days recede with final au revoirs.
Their faces seem a universe of dreams
in skies awash with myriads of stars.
As days recede with final au revoirs,
to leave the tumult of the world below
in skies awash with myriads of stars
I’d glide away into the cosmic flow.
Take us away, sweet glide. – mh clay
The great unknown within its flow
has vast galactic heights aglow
with heavens’ past in astral vaults
in schemes of intricate gestalts
that strain the brain to vertigo.
Yet on the dreamers here below
the stars their stellar airs bestow,
as music of the spheres exalts
the great unknown.
Still cosmic questers seek to know
the principles that rule the show
while scientists search out the faults
and make their math turn somersaults,
although it ever shall be so,
the great unknown…
Let your questions lie. Find peace in that. – mh clay
An excerpt from Sleeping Beauty One day like all seemingly other days a long impending day that was to be set apart from all other days by the opening of an impenetrable chasm I idle found myself in medias res wandering wandering intrepidly all about the palace running round running running round about the castle restlessly questing searching aimlessly for …
This planet whereon we reside
gave nature’s bounty far and wide.
We’ve seen our Mother Earth from space
who barely shows her fragile face
as Pale Blue Dot, sunbeam enshrined,
and still we humans are so blind.
The cosmic reaches hugely grand
are vaster than we understand.
We know not of a single place
where kindred creatures would be graced
with crucial features so combined.
But oh we humans are so blind.
We’ve self-importance off the scale,
self-interest beyond the pale,
yet if our sweep of self were more
than just what enters through our door
it could be good for all Mankind.
How can we humans be so blind?
If only we’d be even wise
enough to open tight shut eyes
and seek reality’s true guise
from whence awareness dawns arise,
a search within would surely find
that humans need not be so blind.
Let’s fear not the inward search. – mh clay
My oh so bloomy garden auteurist domain, where savored I wholesale poetic license, was far more fantastic than the famed hanging wonder of the world terraced in antiquity for a melancholy missus by her kingly spouse. Still and all I wanted the whole blooming world as my garden my luring organa garden my fata morgana garden brimming in the brightest …
Wonders of the world abound
on our earthly stomping ground,
in the seven seas profound,
midst the heavens round us wound.
Images from reaches vast
by astronomers amassed
show in varicolored cast,
cosmic glories unsurpassed,
stories of the great immense,
begging questions why and whence,
scenes stelliferously dense,
bringing past to present tense.
Oh how tantalizing to
lose oneself in starry view
of galactic vision new
where a poet’s words ring true!
penned for Music’s haunting play
with the sounds the words convey
as they whisper, swing and sway,
tells of ‘far’ from past long gone,
murmur from ‘his own life’s dawn’?
breath where ‘doors of death’ go on
through an open curtain drawn?
Whether time or space be meant,
or spacetime together bent,
still, whatever sense is lent,
far’s remote in its intent.
After sunset’s crimson blaze
we may raise a dreamy gaze
in escape from troubled days
to celestial splendors praise.
Will our search of cosmic sphere
teach us to esteem what’s here?
Oft stargazers too I fear
must look far to see the near.
Just stop to gaze at distant star to learn that cosmic dust we are. – mh clay