Leaving The Basilica of Knowledge On An Undivided August Afternoon

I know less today than yesterday,
Living on a hill where wind blows,
Steals sounds of music, dims the sad
Green light never seen before.
Leaves bend in shady silence, subtle
Shadows surround, folded
Between the blessings of bare feet.

Summer sun brings charity, philanthropy of
Warmth, meadows, flowers that detail
Color, souvenirs of pivotal yellows,
Riches of pink positioned in proper form,
Bouquet of blues that blossom
Against sky blue of summer morn,
Deepening green of August trees on hills,
Dreaming all the way to black of night.

As I unlearn, dislocate away from form,
Breathe in silence that floats above
Edge of every hour, the lake blurs
Undivided into August afternoon, dissolves,
Walks into deeper wordless prayer.
Birds, messengers fly through brilliance
While I am still in
Perfect, senseless grace,
Break the thread of sorrow….
Watch this letting go, aware
No dogmatic belief, thank God….
This need that seeks not further understanding,
Only gift of empty space.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Leaving The Basilica of Knowledge On An Undivided August Afternoon

  1. You did it again, Fred.
    You are a master weaver of words, thoughts and feelings that paint a new feel for reality.
    You make your muse proud 🙂

  2. Dear Fred…this I think is your best work so far. A lovely sense of time held at bay …of a drowsey August afternoon, and the beauty of ephemeral things, the late summer flowers , darkening leaves … and the silent inner life, spectator, lover … empty and at one with creation .

    When you publish your first book of poems, and you must….please remember I want a signed, first edition !..

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s