I know many of you are far more literate , knowledgable and well-read than I am. That is just a statement of fact which I know from reading and learning about the arts and literature from other blogs and even comments posted. Unfortunately, I may have spent my youth unwisely and sought to learn about the world and about the arts from the wrong sources. See below.
I used to write poetry when I was only one third as old as I am now which is a long time ago. I have not written since and on top of that I cannot be better than my teacher which happens to be a ficticious comic strip penguin who sucks at poetry. Nevertheless, I started this blog to help my rigid, analytical scientific side to get to know again, the carefree, emotional and artsy side. So for the first time, in 27 years, I’ve written a poem. I hope you will treat it with as much kindness as you showed Rodney the Rat.
To heed a clarion of high calling
With wild anticipation, the soul doth shake
For with pen on paper, its secrets outpouring.
What treasure long hidden and held secure,
Should now be returned to light
What joys revived, grow all the more
Re-lived in prose and given flight
Should I with abandon, indulge in memories
Of love’s wonders in the flush of youth
Perhaps recall happy moments in life’s journeys,
Or the pain in learning life’s truths.
No, for tonight, my heart seeks to sing a different song
Of simply playing in my Father’s garden
Climbing to tops of mountains, to watch a new dawn
With mists arising from emerald Eden.
Before long, the birds and insects join in chorus,
To welcome the sun’s warming rays.
I, in turn, praise God for the world He made us.
And hope to honor Him, all my days.
For thought it may seem that I sit all alone,
High above the waking world,
In these moments with God, I am most not alone,
These moments more precious than gold.