Out Of Poetry

All beginnings began in dreaming
before the forager was the bard
the first farmer planted golden seeds
and fashioned leisure from hard labor
distributing luxury in good deeds
inventing immortality on paper
then consuming it like food.

Because the page is limited
Homer had no more to say
after letting the world in on
the secrets of heroes and monsters
from an age when wisdom was
found in quests not answers before
his kin became mathematicians.

The alchemists in London, Paris,
Seville, Prague and Alexandria
hid more knowledge then they found
seeing contrasts in unities
saying whatever it took to bind
sureties to improbabilities
cause and effect their two hands.

You and I brother sister
hang our heads in ponderance
it is a ritual that for millennia
framed mornings around a fire
guided evening’s tremulous
memory-making recitations
and out of poetry made us.


About mrsorenson

NOT my president
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