. . . COSMICS . . .
I stand alone and trembling
in an empty
Salvadore Dali
landscape, an arid featureless
plain. On every
side a hoary
vanishing-point perspective.
A cold wind blows to chill
the blinking star
somewhere far,
hung in black depth of midnight.
Meanwhile the sun
for simultaneous fun
illuminates the dazzled ground.
NOW, flat fantastic surface FADING
FROM SIGHT
into night
an infinity away... If eyes could see
as astutely
as acutely,
that outer edge would ever yet escape.
I feel so completely ignorant and small
in the midst
of all this
IMMENSITY, this eroded, endless
peneplain. Geological term
NOW! So plain-
A SECOND PLANE THE FIRST INTERSECTS
THROUGH WHERE I STAND!...And the ground
beneath feet,
like a sheet
of filmy transparent dusty-green glass
permits the sight
from dazzling height
to endless empty deepest darkness.
Suspended there, in suspense insecure,
on cold surface
in endless space
above abyss... I look UP ALONG THE PLANE
into a height
of frosty night
incomprehensible to hope by telescope!
Full stop. Above! Where no words are,
No breath.
Not death
A delicious warmth. There is no death!
God is Love.
Not just above
but in all I knew not and will now know
The stars like diamond necklace strung...
Or traffic lights
to guide the flights
on some celestial street to eternity,
and then
back again
to find the hapless stranded tourist here.
But the tourist is gone...Integrated.
I am lost
in cosmic dust:
A useless speck infinitesimal, but
drowned in the GLORY
of the story
of CREATION, where eternity and infinity meet!
-------------------
And then I "woke" confused, trembling at my desk,
pen in hand,
to understand
from my writing on scribbled pages before me
in remnant glow
I did not know
who or how all this long message came to be.
Then prickles brought back where I'd been
I read it all
and felt it all
like standing there, then not, . . . gone
and somehow knew
that it was true
my life could never be the same again.
Written 1964 in a trance state
Soon after my father's death.
Indelible memory.
Author notes
Under oath I would attest the above event is true.
A teacher, I was marking exam papers after midnight, overtired, and remember floating above myself seeing the tests and blank paper and then, after a while, renewed but frightened, was back again.
It was my handwriting but I didn't write it. It had come, readymade, and needed no editing. Memory cleared as I read it and strangely, recalled warmth and joy accompanied my disappearance and then I was back. I have told most of this, aware nevertheless that people might think I had lost what few marbles I had left. Wrote the last two verses just now, matching the form, from memory of the event. It is not easily forgotten.
So, what does spitituality mean to me? It is real, and I have felt my father's presence, his love keeping me safe, preventing accidents when driving by night. It left me able to sense when a few friends thought of me, and then the phone would ring, and sure enough, "Hi Mary!" Once when we were living in Quebec, Mary in Ontario, the phone had not rung, and both Mary and I had picked up to dial each other.
It should have rung busy for both of us, but didn't.
It is truly a beautiful thing to feel safe, and at peace, and not even a little bit afraid, eventually to die.
--Dee
In a list
A contest entry
- An epiphany to me. Write a poem about it happening to men or women who were not saints so to speak by Iohagh.
300 points, ended April 7, 2006, 2 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 49 of 49
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TrulyLoothy, you have a right to your opinion, and so do I. We do not agree, and that is quite all right, for neither of us will change, and that's OK too.
I have never even been tempted to use psychodelic drugs, so its manifestations are foreign to me. I do know that fatigue is a factor that has been with me most of my life, affecting health. Minor point however.
What you call traumatic was the absolute opposite, a joyous, intensely spiritual experience that removed for all time, any fear. Of death, for it does not exist. Of change, for it is inevitable. Of ridicule because it does not apply here.
The event happened in 1964, and forty years have not dulled its memory. I was ten years older than you are now, and who knows, --though you scoff now--it is possible that some heavy personal loss, perhaps a death of someone you love-- will lead you then, to understand that preconceptions are not necessarily permanent.
It is not your fault that you are young and bound by logic; it was how we were all taught. But logic limits us severely, and people reveal their limitations by what they reject. You reject this now, and for you it fits. No problem. Your rejecting does not alter my own experience. Someday, who knows? You may find your own life-changing event, in spite of all the locks on your thinking.
We do not agree. That pretty well concludes any worthwhile discussion. Thank you for shaking the dust out of my thinking. Wishing you well,
Terry -
well these kind of things are actually common and are experienced...but I'm afraid to tell you that logically and probability both say that you cannot possibly "float" above your body in an actual spiritual state of being. Not unless you actually die... I do not believe in such things I am afraid..it is not logical. But you would be surprised at the complexity and seriousness and realistic images that our subconsious can display..this power is shown in our nightmares and in our dreams. Our mind can play really sick tricks on us sometimes. Trust me I know, I tried the illegal drug known as "shrooms" once ...and my mind played tricks on me to where I "thought" I was seeing red and purple dots coming out of the walls. But illusions of the mind when your body is going through a stressful or new experience...one can find themselves in a situation that they cannot explain. I'm sorry that you went through such a traumatic experience, but I think it to be wise to let go of this childish illusion and just come to grip with the logical solution...it was in your handwriting, so you had to of written it...which means your mind was consious...so you could not have possibly been dead...you were just going through lots of stress and you fainted....I think that is what is considered a simple "brain fart"
Edited on Apr 21, 10:05 p.m. because ''. -
Exhausted, yes, grieving Dad's recent death... not something I can explain. It was definitely my handwriting so my hand must have written it, yet with no recollection of writing, I was gone. Interesting--if only gone in spirit, why did I have bodily sensations while away?
What you said would have been possible except for the incrediblly clarity of my surroundings and sensations. First-hand. It was not anything I had thought of before, totally different, new, yet safe and completely at ease.
Had I briefly died?
No one has described where I was, amazed. Isolated. I felt the cold transparent surface under my feet, over that endless abyss, and the rest of it, the cross through where I stood, and then gone, integrated into All, completely at ease not to be. On return, from above I saw myself immobile at my desk... and the shock of finding it written.
It was not intended to be written, or to have a plot, or to make sense, but it changed my life anyway.
Thank you for this.
Terry
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rather strange that you spaced out, but I'm sure you just wrote it unconsiously..you were just so tired and overworked that you were writing ..just flowing thoughts inside your mind and they came out on paper without you even realizing it. I can see this actually happening to someone that is overworked..which is why the plot doesn't really make much sense. lol
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I returned to find it already written as you see it, in my handwriting. I cannot take credit for the quality of its form, but will never forget being there.
I am glad you read it. It keeps a person humble.
Terry
Edited on Apr 21, 5:40 p.m. because 'blah'. -
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the plot doesn't really make much sense. Does it have to?
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well i must say that I do definitly like the part about Salvador Dali...it definitly laid out the abstract point of view the poem would be. Although I felt some of your rhyming sounded a little forced and simple, and I think that the essence of existance is much simpler than that, but yet, much more complex at the same time. In my opinion, God let Satan control a hell so that there would be an equal balance bettwen good and evil..because He understands that if there is a great as good as He, then there must be something equally evil as He is good....which is why I try to center myself with meditation and balance my inner chi...I consider all the good things I do are for a greater evil, and the evil things I do are all for a much greater good. Ying and yang I am balanced.
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Dear Terry, at least we know sweety that when we do leave our earthly bodies we are going to a wonderful place where there's no more pain. And everyone will be there to greet us, they get so excited because they know when we'll arrive and they throw a big party for us. The Tuesday night before my Mum died I was sitting by her bedside and she was looking down the foot of the bed with such a radiant look on her face, she kept nodding her head, saying "yes, yes" then she looked at me and said "Dad said you look beautiful tonight" then she said "They're all here, even Saint Peter." I saw her talking to them, it was amazing. Now my Mum was afraid of dying before that, but she lost all that fear as they were there to reassure her there was nothing to fear. She died the following Saturday night aged 92. My Sister in law & I actually watched her last heartbeat from her carotic artery, it was so surreal. Terry I could go on but I'd better stop as there'll be no room for others to comment,
Love Joan
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Joan, bless you, it is so obvious in what you say that Truth Shines. It cannot be denied.
As I am approaching the the time, with my remaining years countable on my fingers, perhaps only on one hand, it is a welcoming thought for many reasons. One is the chronic pain which only gets worse. "Degenerative disc disease," they call it, and the bone spurs up my spine and neck leave me able to sit at the computer now only for limited times. Forget about standing. For twenty-two years I have walked on "unstable" knees that did not heal after surgery for arthritis, held together by staples, louder and slipping more often. I even have my doubts about my left arm, shattered in a fall, which did not heal, but was reconstructed with bone from my pelvis, held together by metal and screwnails. When the body becomes a burden, leaving it behind becomes welcome indeed.
It may have been planned that way. Pain is such a great persuader! I will never complete my next novel. So? It is fiction. This is Life. I will continue until it is my time.
Writing with pen and paper... Interesting thought. Mine was too, and most of my life, having had only the pen, I write fast. Reams of university lecture notes had to be legible. What will happen to people who are kids today, keyboarding all, too slow with a pen? Will this be denied them? And yet, this most recent poem typed itself. Answered that.
I will read your message again, Joan. Soon I must lie down, but your life has been equally blessed, and what we have written will likely bring comfort to many readers if it doesn't get lost in the Great Glut of Internet verbiage.
I know that after such an experience it is an entirely different world already, just knowing this is not all there is. It would be a great comfort to all who suffer--and for many, already is.
One small concern: why is it that Churches that mean well, have no idea that their dogma is not all there is either?
People who dared step beyond strict adherence to the Bible used to be burned at the stake! People inspired by God wrote it, and there is no reason to deny that such inspiration continues. Now, I have to go. Thank you so very much for sharing your experience too.
And to Hugh, you're next.
Terry
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Dear Terry,
I just noticed that I commented on this back in September 2004, since then I have grown so much more in my experiences with the afterlife. The love goes on Terry, beyond the grave, they do come to visit and guide us, I know I told you of this before and I’d like to re post it.
I believe you because it’s happened to me in the past, my inspirational writings have not been written by me. I sit in my meditation room with pen and paper in hand and I ask for inspirational words to come through, my pen begins to write and when I re-read the words I know there is no way I could’ve written what was on the paper. What it is called is automatic writing only you seemed to have left your body and your Dad came through and wrote the beautiful words that are written here. You have not lost your marbles Terry, what you’ve had is a wonderful experience and it hasn’t ended there, your Dad is still around you, guiding you, keeping you safe. The Spirit lives on Terry, only the body that has been our house dies and the spirit lives on beyond the grave. I have had experiences when I’ve been ill and Angels have come to assure me that I’ll be fine, it’s not my time. Terry, never let anyone tell you this was just your imagination as it’s not..
I’m so pleased you gained the courage to post these wonderful words from your Dad for us to read, I could FEEL the spirit of your Dad in this piece and it’s wonderful.
Hugs Joan
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Dear Terry,
~~~
I am late to read this which comes to me as a coda to your latest posting, where it should have been the prologue.
Of course it is TRUE! I have no doubt of it for, some years ago, in hospital with a collapsed lung, I 'died' and left my body. I observed it lying on the bed below where I was floating toward a brightly lit passage through the wall in which my Nanna, mother and daughter were waiting for me to join them. The magnetic force of their love was palpable and I remember the pain and the struggle within myself in my resolve not to join them but to stay for my wife and two surviving daughters. I will also never forget the intense distress on my own part and theirs over my decision but the understanding that washed over me from the three who faded as I rejoined my body and started to recover from my pneumonia. I know they are waiting for me when it is my time to join them and nobody will convince me that there is not an afterlife no matter how often I am told it was a delirium induced by illness or fever or that I am a few shingles short on my roof.
I know too that words can come unbidden and how they spill out of the mind faster than one can write or type them.
This is not power of invention but of reception. I call her my Muse but who knows?
"There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio....."
(Shakespeare - Hamlet.)
Thankyou again my very sane friend.
Applause, love and hugs, XXX Hugh.
Edited on Mar 28, 1:30 because ''. -
And more, how I am. Really it was
more on levels both fundamental
and beyond what anything else does
independently, when universal
truths disappear to be replaced
by unimaginable magnificence!
When surface features interspaced
with greater mystery and reverence,
immense three-dimensional cross,
a vertical facade and horizontal meld
I'm breathless in wonder not of loss
a joyous part within, so gently held...
There is no death within eternity;
Love continues Life, differently.
Beyond understanding, not belief
it led me far past edge of edge
and countermanded all my grief
into sorrow's private privilege:
When yet our soul remains to give
it's not our body that must live.
Thank you, lohagh, for inspiring my Muse to write this.
Terry
Edited on Mar 28, 5:31 because 'typo'. -
Asleep you felt awoke
your mirror it broke
each dreamscape I agree
changed how you see.
Smoosh. -
[won't ask you how] He he he
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Adrienne, yes, many times, but nothing of the depth of this one,
but to a lesser extent. I simply lived it!
Now I just call it my MUSE when I start a poem and it becomes very easy to do, coming almost too fast for typing to keep up with it. Usually those are the best ones, too, and a surprise. The rhythm is natural, and the rhymes seem to be waiting, ready to go.
Please don't ask me how. I don't know. Glad it happens though!
Terry
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Ahhh. This makes it more clear. I am SO glad you decided to share this experience and writing with us. It's amzing when you think of how we barely touch upon our full cerebral functions and not a difficult conclusion to leap to in the metaphysical and spiritual sense. So much to learn. So very much. His presence was most definitely a gift which you received with aplomb and gratitude. It is said our loved loved ones will contact us if it will help us; I can see how much it has helped you.
Do you still have automatic writing 'spells'? Readymade indeed it is most excellent in form and just EVERYTHING. You know?
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Pist, I know what you mean about feeling it. Reading it transports me there all over again. Having known the visuals first hand having felt the loss of body into "cosmic dust" and knowing it to be benign is beyond what we would call "death," to be solely in spirit. There is no death, if the body is not included as a necessity for life.
It is a tough concept for people to understand unless they already live in spirit too. I am not sure if I fully understood that at the time of its writing in 1964, soon after my father had died. At that time I just felt that Dad was keeping me safe. --Dee -
i think i'll remember this poem. i really felt it.
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It is so late at night, Duana, that I cannot do your request justice. You ask the difference between trance and sleep (which it is most nearly like) when sleep calls me--!? I looked it up in Webster's and it is obvious the writer had never known one. Oxford dictionary said a state "like hypnosis"
is closer, but it is not deliberately induced, just happens.
It releases all control, that I know, which is why some people fear it. I have nothing to fear, not death, not anything, having already made my peace. Some of that brimstone is a product of organized Religion, to maintain control over the flock, through a sense of guilt. As for paths chosen, put in the past what is past, for "now" is what matters. Just relax. Love forgives all, and God is Love. Goodnight!
--Dee -
Hi I see I read this but didn't really comment. After reading this in the context of our discussion on the board, I have more to say. This rings true to me on every level. It is so much like a true vision. I have no idea what it means to be in a trance state or how that differs from a sleep state, or groggy state, or drugged state. I am very curious if you can tell me. But I have had a vision with similar dynamics that can not easily be dismissed in my mind- though everything it told me about my future conflicts with my present circumstances. The only think that didn't ring true for me in this is when you said 'there is no death'- that I can't believe no matter how much I want to(I know it sounds contreadictiory if I believe everything else you havesaid). I admire people with that kind of faith. It scares me that we went through this life just to either die, or get sent to hell for choosing the wrong path, but somehow that is where my faith is right now, and I can't shake it. Fantastic write. I enjoyed reading once again about your experience.
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Gennelle, It is my runaway favourite poem too, alive as it still remains, as if it happened yesterday. That "Geological term" peneplain, however reminds me that I had just taken a geology course where peneplains are totally flat land of mineral origin, the remainder of eroded mountains...and thus of a time dating back to earliest beginnings of Planet Earth.
I want to thank you especially for honoring a pre-write so highly. Thank you! Terry (--Dee)
Edited on Sep 24, 6:05 p.m. because 'typo'. -
Thank you Mary6. I know that you and Peaseeker both truly know how it is. There is a stage that goes so far beyond words that words cam only hint at, on the level of experience, breath-holding experience. --Dee
Edited on Sep 24, 5:54 p.m. because 'spacing'. -
congratulations on the silver!
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Congratulations on your silver trophy! This plane/plain strikes a chord with me, I have seen something like.
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Congratulations Dee on your Silver trophy, well done.
Love~Joan
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Dee ~ This still has the power to amaze and entrance me as it did the first time I read it! . The unique 'rightness' of the style endorses its authenticity, particularly as it is not a 'known' form or style, or one you are known for.
It remains one of my favourite poems. I am so pleased and honoured that you entered it in this contest.
~ Gennelle
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Angelica, it happens to you too, and is a wonderful thing. There may be many of us. For years I didn't tell anyone. It was so --- far out? I suspect that what I call my Muse is somehow related to this too.
"so you are blessed to be able to receive messages like this" you said. Yes, no doubt about it. More than a message, it is a certainty. This poem is a sustained metaphor in 3D. -- that crossing of the two planes is vivid in memory-- an infinitely large "floor" crossed through by an infinitely tall/deep/wide wall --in my mind, a rearrangement of all there is-- I could NEVER have imagined such a thing happening yet "I was there.". 1964 is a long time ago and it is just as real as yesterday.
It reminds me a bit of Wm Blake and the metaphysical poets who lived in the later 1700 to early 1800's. Interesting. Good to hear from you! --Dee
Edited on Sep 19, 2:34 p.m. because 'clarifying'. -
DeeCrepit, this is what you call automatic writing it happens to me all the time, I go into my meditation room and come out with words I know I've never written. so you are blessed to be able to receive messages like this~angelica
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Mary6, bless you, you truly understand. I have come to realize it is love that powers it, not what I used to think love was, but spiritual love, entirely unconditional, given and sent without limit of time, distance, or state of being.
In my current novel in Storywrite, Sonya has known it over half a lifetime; it will sustain her for all time, and Nellie feels it. (Not promoting, but chapter6 Revised was featured. )
--Dee -
Duana, it is indelible. Amazing the strength and courage it has lent me, and wonderful, the peace. Thank you. --Dee
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this is just simply amazing. and with all my heart i believe it. to imagine the scene inspires awe. a profound experience and one i am sure that has cemented your faith in the spiritual. i, too, have 'felt' those who've passed on before. so i do, deeply, believe in the spiritual realm. this is an intensely fascinating piece.
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wow, what a memory.
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DeeCrepit ~ Thank you for your entry!
~ G
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i enjoyed this very much! im not sure its the same as my poem...i am nova...but i guess that depends on view point..as it could indeed mean the same thing...i think, when i wrote that, i was trying to express an image of myself walking with and becoming the/a star(s)...if that makes sense...but this did remind me of a time a few years ago...i was writing on a piece on paper i tore out of a brand new note book...i folded it and held it in my hand and went to get in the bed....lying down i was reaching to put it under the mattress and i started to smell smoke..then suddenly my hand got really warm...also it was like a needle was poking my finger...and just as calm as relaxed as possible, my mind flashed with an image of my grandmother..i smelled my shirt and my arms and hands...they smelled like pure smoke..i said to myself..my grandma just gave me a hug....she smoked alot when she was alive...her home smelled of smoke, etc...so i knew it was her...then..i removed my stinging finger from the piece of paper i was holding..because i just got this feeling that was what i was to do next..and right there...where my finger had rest..was a smoke burn..you ever seen a piece of paper after someone puts it to their lips and blows smoke..cigg. smoke?...i dont know..but that was the mark...everyone thought i was crazy..but i know it was my grandma letting me know she was around...the next morning the smoke smell was gone..from my shirt, etc...i dont know...it sounds weird..but..a true story...
i think the ones that have passed always find a way to let us know they are still around...thats how i interpret your poem neways..
sorry so long..lol
well written..def enjoyed the read!
~*~Blu~*~
ps..i have changed the font color to that poem..so you can see the words better
Edited on May 31, 4:38 p.m. because ''. -
Bless you
forevermore, thank you so very much for your kind comments. You and others who found something personally real in Cosmics make me so happy to have dared post it. Even now, 40 years after it happened, when I read it, the shivers of recognition prickle the skin, and I am there again. I have wondered "why me?" but am thankful.
PS
The software would not let me applaud your comment becaise it took it to be a repeat applause. Consider one sent to you!! --Dee
Edited on May 31, 2:38 because 'typo'. -
Amazing story.. and absolutely beautiful piece. I am glad you have found peace within yourself... my greatest congratulations for placing!!
xoxo forevermore -
"Whelmed"-over and over.
To Easy Assumption and to Peaseker, Maatkara, and shastadaisey,
my thanks. I am still floating here, so happy at the outcome, so happy to have found friends, farflung as you are. I sense you are all well acquainted with love, capital L Love, and how it lends wings to our thoughts and strength in face of adversity. It is just such a time of wonder to find validation where before I thought there was none. Bless you all! --Dee -
I really enjoyed reading this piece. You use such wonderful imagery, and you share such a personal story. Thanks again for sharing.
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Congratulations on your silver trophy!
This is an amazing poem.
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Thank you, Shastadaisey, it was a life-changing experience in the fullest sense of the word. Reading it again put me back on that transparent surface... and it has been a long time since it came. --Dee
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excellent...this piece has some beautiful words to convey deepthoughts...very good.. good luck in contest...freda
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What an awesome experience. You had some great images and phrases through out. Thanks for building the courage to share this experience with us all.
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Thank you Dee I appreciate your understanding, personal initiative and scholarship. I also appreciate what you're saying about 'objective' vs 'subjective' realities. It is these accepted 'world views' of duality we need a paradigm shift from. Of course sensible, independent people like yourself, have few 'fears' in the world. What is feared most, as you alluded, is fear of ridicule. That is what most fear; not 'death', but 'social death'! That is our final, major hurdle. We go along with what is considered 'acceptable' behaviour, social systems, and belief patterns - to fit in. All I'm pointing to is that as soon as we can, collectively, shed these habits of thinking, the sooner we will be Free to be ourselves. As Leonard Cohen (Canadian mystic songwriter) puts it, "The heart has got to open in a fundamental way." That is where it really "matters".
Now I've waffled on.
Love & Light,
~ Ma'atkara
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Whew
Maatkara, you asked me what Reality is, and I can say there are two kinds. Objective reality is the basis of science in all its forms, provable (they say) and common to all. Subjective reality is individually tailored through a variety of cultural, familial, and personal influences. It varies in its scope, both in its depth and its breadth and is a product of opportunity, (educationally and through experience.) While the first kind is limited only by accessibility of research tools, the second unfortunately for some, is limited by genetics (intelligence) and factors like curiosity, creative thought--(risk taking, imagination, aptitudes verbal, visual, and kinesthetic--manual dexterity for instance.) It follows then, that it would be unrealistic to expect any two people to have exactly the same grasp on subjective reality.
I agree that nothing manufactured would exist without having first been designed (thought of). Having no theological background I would not presume to go beyond that into other manifestations in nature. I do know this, that I find great peace under tall trees or silently floating in a boat on the river. I can vouch for the reality of spiritual experience, for instance, as an important part of my life.
As for fear, it is not much of a factor where it matters. I have always welcomed challenges where uncertainty of success exists, taking on new tasks. I taught myself website design when it was a few HTML rules and no software, and Linux was tough without help. As a teacher I have taught every grade from 1 to 12 at one time or another, and in adult-ed, taught teachers. I enjoy being alone, and have driven many thousands of miles alone in the car. As a rule I have no fear, but have sufficient caution to avoid being foolish. Divulging that spiritual experience has been an exception. Metaphysical things just were not on the open agenda somehow.
A long reply so I apologize for going on and on. --Dee
Edited on May 03 because 'typos'. -
What is reality, Dee? Is it what we see 'with' our biological eyes, or is it what we See 'through' them? Look at everything you have around you right now...your pc, the furniture, the building you are in....where did they come from? Weren't they all, at one point, only a human thought?
As the Master said, "Is it not written in your law, 'I said, "you are gods"'?...(and Scripture cannot be broken)" John 10:34-35
Thoughts are things, they become reality...we must all awaken to our True Reality. Abandoning our fears is the hardest thing of all. We can do it!
Love,
~ Gennelle
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Ma'atkara, I have lived with that since 1964, "sitting on it" for forty years because I feared being thought seven shades of insane. Who would have believed it then? I am rather surprised that it could be told even yet. All I know is what happened, that I did not consciously write it. And that I cannot remember fear, not at any part of it. I don't know what else to say. Very intense dream, probably. Got to be. I'm not trying to "rationalize it away" just trying to be as accurate as possible.
--Dee
Edited on May 02, 10:37 p.m. because ''. -
Hallelujah!!
Oh! This IS it!!
"drowned in the GLORY
of the story
of CREATION, where eternity and infinity meet!"
You are indeed blessed...such a sublime experience could never be forgotten (or 'rationalized' away) Isn't it wonderful?!
If you were in another culture you would have earned a new name for that...something like 'Starwalker'
Thank you so much for granting us the honour of reading it too.
Love & Light,
~ Ma'atkara
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Easier to define "peneplain" here. Webster's defines it as a large flat eroded land. That "eroded" is interesting.
In my geology class we were told that it was mineral soil where mountains had once stood, completely eroded away. Significant in this poem because it would date its formation back to earliest crust-buckling, where the mountains would have been forced high by the shrinking of the planet that cooling causes In planetary terms, almost to the beginning of time... I had not thought of the significance before. Thank you!
I knew I had read it to you, possibly more than once. That's what gave me courage to post it here!! --Dee
Edited on May 02, 10:39 p.m. because ''. -
Out of this world great!
I remember this poem, I myself have had half of this vision.
The form is different, to say the least, but with its own internal consistency, it gives structure to the poem; it is also a delight to read!
What use is a spirituality that does not give comfort to life, and take away the fear of death? This is beautiful.
I would suggest you define the geologic term in the author's comments area.
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1 - 49 of 49
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