can I eschew metaphor and still awaken the sacred
or abandon symbol while evoking the numinous
in such an incurious language as English?
…
is not every religion and every ineffable being
whether many gods or one jealous of our devotion
needful of the whole expanse of poetic devices?
…
even Homer gave the dawn ‘rosy fingers,’
likened warriors to fierce beasts and mourned
the wrack and ruin of the ‘holy town’ of Troy.
…
but likening a thing is not the same as a direct address
or raising conciousness of qualities too wonderful
for either metaphoric or plainly spoken words.
…
poetry can do more than elevate love and loss to art,
it is also the chief medium for expressing awe
greater even than sacred monuments built since time immemorial.
…
how then do I convey how small I felt
when I gazed at the unblinkered vastness
of the starlit sky in the Mojave desert
…
or express the emotions experienced at our children’s births,
evoke the wonder of the white-tipped alps
or the sacred stillness of a lake when its reflection merged water and sky?
…
seeking meaning for qualities we do not possess nor comprehend
neuters both praise and prayer, turning
a deaf ear to the plaintive melody of the thrush in the twilight hush.
…
perhaps the true enemy is the so-called sagacity of the aged,
the childlike wonder I once knew displaced
with cleverness masquerading as meaning and wisdom
…
the simple faith of the child long ago surrendered
to sophistication, cynicism and unwillingness
to believe, hope or dream in anything larger than myself.
…
sometimes a simple challenge exposes the paucity
of imagination, the depth of malaise and the
emotional inertia rendering language inert.
…
how should I pray when I no longer possess the belief of a child
when simple faith and the passions I once experienced have vanished
and our children’s and grandchildren’s futures seem so bleak?
…
are you there, God, or am I talking only to myself?
…
About the Creator
John Cox
Old school writer of mind bending tales. I never met a myth I didn't love or a subject that I couldn't twist out of joint. I have a little something for almost everyone here. Cept AI. Ain't got none of that.
Chronic Ache in the Soul of a Single Parent
There is a chronic ache in the soul of a single parent. It lingers, feeling endless. This ache feels so difficult, especially when you look at other families. They seem so… whole. They seem so joyful and complete. There is a husband and a wife and children in a stroller. Thinking about your single state, you realize how awkward you feel, how out of place at various functions and gatherings. They are all happily together and you’re miserably alone. Disappointment with the current life circumstances just settles in to stay, or so it feels. How could these layers of disappointment be broken up anyhow?
By Rowan Finley 8 days ago in Humans
Comments (4)
This is so deep and you convey yourself quite well.
Ah, John. So much here that resonates with me too.
Oooo, paucity is a new word for me. Your last line hit me so hard because I've asked that question too. The answer, or lack thereof said a lot. Loved your take on the challenge!
Beautiful poem, John. So many layers to peel away and beautiful imagery. I felt the heaviness of mourning what you have lost with age as life has bid you abandon the simple wonder of childhood.