Sharing a Poem for Fellow Poets & Artists… THE SHE OF GOD • by Jesús Papoleto Meléndez There is a GOD… and She is you; Mother… Mother of the Artist, Mother of the Art! Mother, rising in Son and Daughter, Now, Everyone alive her Child, cherished, as is water; Who channeled through the liquid space of Time into this lake of jagged stone, alone – Everyone of woman borne; Whose mystery is Spirit; and penetrates quite easily the perforated threshold of this Earth; Fecund with the gift of Birth – The look of Love, obvious as eyes upon her face!… No Man, or Woman can escape the Essence of this Grace, that breathes within every living thing that is, & because It Is; Life as Art on Earth, quite commonly, is a Natural circumstance of the chance for Life itself; O, Mother, Mother Poetry & Art… While still cradled in the womb, The embryonic man rustles in his sleep – Unborn as yet, he is brave; unafraid of Dreams & Myths, And is soothed by a lullaby sweetly sung, arising from the angelic voice of his Mother’s natural love… That from the moment of his birth, having nursed the Universes of her breasts, – & still restless, Nevertheless he goes astray And throws himself into the brutal & artistic day, openly exhibiting his naked heart!… … while the Mind’s Third Eye, in its unconsciousness, already knows substantially that Reality is as elusive as a fleeting moment( “the Thought upon the Lips reclines to Rest” …), that in its speck of time exists , and in another instant escapes our grip – To be born distinctively anew Somewhere else, within Someone else, equally inexperienced In Love and Life, as you!… :Within, without, separate and apart, Embodied in a man, being matter over mind, & having its own soul, He goes… With mad ideas of Perfectness pounding in his head, In Love!, And in mad pursuit of the Great Adventure! & some kind of Peace of Mind that there might be within the world today, So He flirts with the flickering flame of fire & desire… And now sees Himself, & the World from a new, obscure and poignant point of view – Where Nothing’s Nowhere & Everywhere at once! – leaving him for dead!!!… He Cries Out! : “Mother!, Mother!… Where Art Thou Now?!”… And, consumed within the guilt of every man – he sulks into his open hands, “…Why have you forsaken me?!” Without so much as a farewell kiss – …Thus begins descending into his own abyss. But it is She who weeps, and thusly, sweeps away the remnants of the mundane pain that seems so plainly always in the world today – That would win the Cosmic battle for the heart Were it not! for her ever-present form of Art – …Whose love would not betray! Though through time tested, never bent its will – To speak of what it would; To express what pain and power is in Nature’s natural strength… That holds him wounded in her arms, alone, while in his arms, is She – with the subtlety of Dignity, Humility & Godliness; Who sheds the tears that pay the price for the breadth of Art’s unrequited sacrifice… O, Mother of the Artist!, Mother of the Art ! Spiritual Creation made flesh, strolling among us in its most purest form; That makes Time itself stand still, holding-in its own breath; While She gives to Life that, which Death can never take from us.
Posted on: Sun, 28 Sep 2014 15:33:43 +0000
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