Saturday, August 11, 2012

Rapture

The more ancient the temple
the deeper the shadows
where images carved over
a hundred centuries ago
invite us in with dusty whispers
and monumental mirth
for none has yet deciphered the jubilant truth
their stony gazes can't convey.

Beneath the drifting sand a great behemoth
shakes its unshorn head
and paws about, its massive backbone arched
like the daunting chiseled doorways
that beckon us above,
constructed to outlive their own haunting,
and we, the pesky fleas upon its back
are thirsty for the blood we need
to suffer till the spinning silver disks
appear to spirit us away.

7 comments:

poetryroad said...

Average poet? I think NOT! Well written piece that went to the edge and then some! Look forward to reading more from you!

Aya Tong Wilson said...

powerful depth in understanding life and more.

well done.

NefariousX said...

I thought your poem was cool, I appreciated the word choices and imagery. Nice work.

Andy David said...

Well written. I think you are a great poet!!

rch said...

Hey thanks so much poetryroad, Aya, Nefarious and Andy, just trying some new stuff and I really appreciate the feedback, take care!

Hema said...

That's a great capture of rapture!

eclipseofthemoon said...

Average...not a chance! :)
A great piece of poetry!