One’s mind, one’s self, one’s secrets bared,
across thought’s wilderness, in present’s clime;
through dangers ire and hazard’s maw,
on toward the future’s clearing chime.
One’s mind, once suppressed and drained,
an emptiness cleared, for filling by thought’s raw sublime;
to which all of individual conscious share,
may seek, and sip, of ideal’s and image’s supine.
One’s mind, in root and not corruption’s sin,
seeks depths and heights beyond this earth’s divide;
fed richly so by heaven’s waters mists,
from providence and life’s flowing wondrous blends;
an essence of one’s mysteries Beth-Nahrain,
between flowers conceive, and fruit’s sweet tastes;
prove edible prose and poetic feast,
of which every hardened heart and soul so entreats.
One’s mind, within its inner sleep,
sings longing loves, at opined sweetness’ behest;
which lovingly ease the heart’s discontent,
and in each soul, begets an essence less stressed;
each life possessed of beauty such, in words to all transmits,
the world’s harmonious truth’s resound.
One’s mind, all dressed of horizon’s robes,
suppress the doubts, each soul now bodes;
flowing through from thought to pen and scroll,
as if, the purity of light’s arise propend;
soaring upward towards to ides reside,
eclipsing depression’s gloom, and causing scathe’s demise;
fulfilling supposition’s smite,
while expanding, over the awe of space and time;
causing ascension reached of thought’s recall,
at once expanding each consciousness, then begins time’s fall;
upon each spirit, each thinking soul,
which blooms and blossoms upon this dear earth;
releasing of these flowered depths,
each minds cleared view of words progress;
unimaginably brilliant clarity, brought into and of blissful wile,
through mind’s portals; once blocked against life’s bright.
One’s mind, an envisioned spirit’s mirror,
of splendor and progression’s glimmer;
sent such of heart, and time, and lore,
through our creator’s love of feminine form;
within a word, one’s speech implore,
life’s mention at the burst of time’s first shimmer.
One’s mind, alight by mystery’s kiss,
elicits through each, that universally guided flame;
invincible and full of justice paired,
against the massing, of evidenced hate and darkness;
will surely true, against what now prevails,
as, an ever pressing present wickedness gained;
assuring those of light’s prevail, and so filled
full, by the flow of love from Uruk’s queen;
instilling pause in mind’s infancy, and arising flamed desires,
within the eternal strum, of Delos’ king of tune.
One’s mind, intense and secret stilled,
not aloof, but separate from the jowls of humanity’s tone;
providence blessed, this essences’ bliss,
awash in humbling devotion’s kindred.
One’s mind so statured centrally,
of life, and love, and nurtured earthliness;
profound the depths this elatedness brings,
such born of thought’s devotions;
through inner strengths expressing tense,
in midnight’s bloom, the mind so moves;
adrift in sincerity’s truthfulness,
while of bodies whole, relates to a returning soul’s renew.
One’s mind, in strength of will,
an inner seed of chosen quality once sown;
gently feeds, to opened spirits dear,
to each an essence of poetry and word;
reflective of the earth once greened,
by the floods of thoughts endearment;
for in its needs, all humankind subsists,
upon this overflowing harvest;
enrichment’s needs depends, and for future’s sake,
most assuredly, for life’s own nourishing.
What is the fabric which enshrouds one’s mind,
is it mist or heavenly ideal divine?
this substance worn, within an individual’s blend,
of ignorance scorned by all without it’s gleam;
recognition warrants, for self in mirror’s glare,
word wrote restores, this memory’s refine;
does truth, which is one’s mind only cure,
relate self’s test, after life ends in death’s redeem;
only then, upon heaven’s pathway home,
will mind’s intentions become one’s truth esteemed.
Why is this fabric, unknown of its thoughtful moods,
its colours bare and its value distained;
an unmasking then, of its beauty refers,
to unselfishness in life, and a smile to each returned?
When is one’s minds fabric exposed’,
as self, as individual, as heartfelt soldier interned;
what does its fill, its time, it’s worth reveal?
One’s mind true nature tuned, to worldly time sojourned,
awaiting the very sky’s view cleared, as heaven’s gift so gave,
exposes all the mind’s gist yearned.
Alas, the masses muddle wholly,
within the straits of minds distraught,
unforgiving they forge, against the thoughts that words resonate,
and relight the fire of heaven’s throne;
What ends be met, of thought, and line, and scroll,
that release the droll and stupor of the people’s sleep?
Which ways to teach, of life, and mood, and time,
that will separate, their cling to arcane and mundane known’s?
Therefore so end their needs for thoughts that stupefy morally,
especially ones which seek to ply all puppets strings;
What muse can answer this, of how to break ignorance and intolerance,
and injustice of their hearts, minds, and souls;
to bathe them in the love of kind, then shower them in heaven’s grace,
fully exposing to them, their self beauty locked within.
Oh mourn the trials of one’s mind, in essence guilty tried,
that thought and word are not each soul’s lock and key.
What time will come when all of humankind,
will bring honour home again,
to once more rejoice in relations passed;
bringing honesty and sincerity to self,
leave off the strive to quest, for present’s rabid living;
of stirring for things tangible and loving scorned adieu,
to mire in circling misery, instead of friendly smiles;
therefore consuming their soul’s true worth,
making all a part of civilization’s fall;
not unlike the last lit candle’s mourning flame,
whose light evades the ever encroaching darkness.
One’s mind insists can again relume,
life’s pathway lone, and clear those ignorant of their losing;
take hold those lost and tepid beings worn,
to guide their thoughts back to the view of heaven’s dawning.
One’s mind, so shed of living’s sins,
is in essence, a gift of life to guild each soul in individual worldly worth;
your timely triumph is now put forth,
of word, of form, and by writing’s works;
throughout the ages grimes, that cripple simple minds,
the heartfelt messages in prose you share.
One’s mind, of passion’s crown,
of thought and vivid dreams;
from prose and poem and words truth bared,
every heart your conscience will this day sing;
and as such be known in present’s sense,
of earthliness, your kingdom penned so will never end.
One’s mind, in empathy drenched,
a power borne by emotion’s hone;
reach up above and shear off your pain filled muse,
touch upon your unconscious crown of thorns;
upon this seek, within your thought’s transcend,
the answers gold in providence’s zeal;
in simplicity and trust your reward is blessed,
with this single wreath of budding kotinos laurel.
Michael Darrell Walker