and how could I not worship
when I turn my face
towards the sky
there are stars there
designed to over-fill my head
with an idea of what small is
and my place
within the scheme
and I know I am nothing
but who else is there
to gaze
wide open to the colours within black
and to the pinpoint indicators
of a place where mightiness once shone
to see the scheme
and I know I am everything
all of it is for me
and it is nothing
~
-
Author:
Frank Prem (
Offline) - Published: November 10th, 2017 00:11
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 22
- User favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet.
Offline)
Comments7
Stars are the holes in heavens floor.
I reckon you're right GF.
Cheers.
A fine write Frank. I knew this was going to have some depth to it, when it started with 'and....'. A sort of breaking into one's thoughts, without any introduction, as it were. Maybe unlike me, waffling on in the intro! lol.
Yes, it's a potent introduction, isn't it? Needs to be followed up with significance!
Glad you enjoyed.
You've penned another super work Frank
Cheers Michael. Thank you.
Everything of a poetic genius Frank.
Glad you enjoyed it, AP.
if the beauty and wonderment is not for me then for whom??? for i cannot see beauty for another.....
. ......... but beauty within another
. ............... ahh there is a different story
Yes, that's a really big question. I think it's a personal thing and therefore, for me alone!
Such depth to these lines Frank - small becomes nothing which alters its host and readers are left with the thought that everything is tied up in human soul-heritage. A first rate read.
nothing but everything Fay. Seems about right. Cheers.
Looking up at the universe, we see only what's within the realm of our eyesight, but even if we include the acquisition of scientific knowledge, what we see or know about is infinitesimally "small." This leaves us feeling powerless and of no consequence, "small" or "nothing." If there are no "Others" then what is the point, "it is nothing." I believe this is why Mankind is constantly exploring, to prove his own worth, and to find evidence of "Others." We must continue the search, for our own sake and sanity.
Great poem. It got me to thinking. What else can one get from poetry? - Phil A.
Can't ask a lot more from a handful of lines, Phil. So glad you enjoyed the piece.
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