A Month of Sundays

Years ago, while living in Simi Valley, there came a time when I only had a few things to do on any given Sunday. We went to Church in the morning and I had the whole afternoon free. I decided that I would try to compose a poem each Sunday, a reflection of everything or something that had happened during the week. I have to say that I was moderately successful. Having been recently released from an assignment which has consumed my Sundays for the past five years, I found myself again with a little time on my hands. I thought that I might venture once again. I have chosen to provide you with the first one of this long series, simply because it is the first. It may be a while before I share in this vein again, simply because I know how most people respond to poetry. This has music to it; I need to have music in my head to produce metered and rhyming poetry. I doubt that I will ever set this to that music, however.

Paean

Before the dawn of our creation
Ere the sun shone on the sea
We were stars of anticipation
Singing perfect melody
Countless hosts rose up in Heaven
Angelic voices made the aire
The sons of God sang with elation
As their paradise appeared

Speak a word, the lights descended
Into a darkness without dreams
Speak a word the thoughts intended
Forming rivers, hills, and streams
In the mists the flowers blossomed
Every creature known to man
Filled the earth as God intended
From the mountains to the sand

From the dust, a son delivered
From his side a love was framed
In the Garden by the river
Every living thing was named
Lords of life, a grand dominion
Over all beneath the sky
With a promise from the Giver
That the Heavens would be nigh

Countless ages, fading stories
Separate us from that hour
When the dews still fell in glory
On every leaf and blade and flower
Bitter-sweet, a taste remembered
On every tongue from day to day
Singing angels stirring memories
As they guide us on our way

PNH
18 January 2009