From the belly of existence
the seventh son of seven sons
spread hopeful revelations
patiently to any who would listen.
Yet in other days
before the dawn of reason
as a culture seeking truth would learn
his presence calmed their fears.
In language all could understand
he spoke of destiny unchanged
like a rock hard speck of cosmic dust
drifting in the wind.
In decades since
while legend claims he lives
when someone calls his name
why then is there silence.
A contest entry
- Bring Us Your Abstract by C J Weatherholt.
700 points, ended June 9, 56 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Why indeed, is there silence. A very thought provoking write that spoke of how it was and how it should be, yet the voice is silent to all who call. Who is the legend that one speaks of? Lovely write. The best in the contest.
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An unusual piece from your pen, and one which requires some thought. Like all legends there is at the very least some truth, but we know not the truth and the legends may let us down in the end.
Very good my friend and certainly food for thought.
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Those legends will let us down, I guess it's better to be without a hero and just deal with life as it comes. I am glad to catch this poem, as I hadn't seen anything from you in a while. I remember a song called "the seventh son" maybe by Johnny Rivers. A seventh son of a seventh son supposedly a charmed individual, blessed with luck and powers. I like this poem, it has an old world flavor to it.
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