Ther Vine Keeper

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Monday, June 4, 2012



within the cataclysmic void
the abyss where the ”pressions” dwell
the Prophets of expression
speak to the known entities
we ignore


the time approaches
where the gate of reconciliation
must be passed through
“what’s in your wallet”

no One Capital
will allow you to pierce
that Needle’s Eye
that Aye
guarded by Camels

will your soul be able
to thread it
when the bugle sounds ?

tread lightly they say
for all will be dark again
to those who have not realigned

we cosign to things
they say are inalienable.
my “i” smiles speaking silence
behind the mask of presence
lest we be discovered
that we are akin

Wikepedia declared the story to be fictional
either Batman or his Creator lied
or deliberately cast us upon
the wilderness
that we may find our way

yet, batman
or that man
or you man
Hued Man
have, has, had
a specified journey
did we even connect

i detect something in the air
it has been looming
for the entire Piscean age
and a part of the Arian
as well
and there is no time
to be shaking and fearing in
these rundown domiciles and huts
we at times can see
as Castles and Temples

the chattel is but that

the names spoken
the words evoked
in “Speak Of” . . .
or the lyrics of Sirach
do they even begin to equate
the wait of our Soul’s longings
can we conjure this ?

can our vessel hold
the New Wine made from Old Grapes ?
would another intangibility
such as a parable
hold you in a stillness
for but a while ?

or shall we be as Jacob
and continue the prevailing
wrestling match
facing the image
found in reflections
of our being-ness
that of God

a Blasphemous thing
in the finite mind’s eye of men
but in the Soul, it is reconciliation
a finding of One-Self
claimed to be Egoic
in Nature . . . that of men’s

in the tiring
of the calloused soles
that have endured and trod
from Eden
to the Babbling whispering tales
of Lore and Dreams
of Scheherazade
we still meander
through the mist
aimlessly amiss
that we may label the way
a quest
or a test
yet detesting that we have

a mild soul shaking
spirit waking
is coming
as the Oceans
that house all consciousness
begins to consume it’s self

it does this
with the aid of the Sun’s light
leaving the Algae,
our breath
to but dry up
fly up
and grasp the winds of transformation
it has been said

and all this was Prophesied
and it will inevitably come to pass
for all things
doth so
as do all seeds sown
yield some type of fruit
bitter or sweet
but never replete

and i point my finger
to the north of Heaven
hoping to see a vision
of the chamber of Souls
where they house
their dreams of peace
that i too may dream again
of such a thing

i hear the rushing waters
they are being poured
from the “Bearers” Earthen Chalice
that the abundance of spiritual things
and movement
drown our aguish
in that Sea
of Forgetfullness

and you Prophet
i request your voice of reason
and presence

let me, we cross
pass through the gate
with unlatched empirical deductions
and seductions
but to become one

let us shine as the Sun
and the glow manifest
upon us
that we be transformed
into our illusion-less self
as are we


© 3 June 2012 : William S. Peters, Sr.

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