MarsEarth

Old world wisdom, new world insight – poems, poetry, philosophy, dreams, commentary, ideas

until a flower blooms

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by Lawrence J. J. Leonard

By the bed, on my knees, where it seizes my cries.

Again at church next to Lurch deep in soul search,
as we perch on the precipice of contact with the Holy Power Pack.

The soul shack covers our backs from the hacky sack brain trap,
the material slap in the face for more money, more time.
How we lack the sublime!

But here we mime to the heavens from
seven to eleven because we’re driven from living. Wanna see His face?

Calling on the Power in this hour
The Hightower inside me
where I cower until a flower blooms
for Him and my eternity.

What you see may not please. Once on your knees come the sighs.
Question your worth or your birth from New York or Perth.

Mesmerized by the mirth while we fight the attack, rocking Iraq,
avoid the crack with a mental fact you cannot redact. That’s the chapped
bruise healing.

Close your trap and keep your head in the rhyme,
can’t spend a dime – pawn it, climb on it, it’s my lime bonnet sonnet,
now I don it  – electronical. His universe is spherical, and that’s ironical.

I’m in His house now where my face is dower
but I feel a joy shower and cannot flee.
My soul is sour but sudden sweet perfumes
from the Master saying, “Cease! Be at Peace.”

Calling on the Power in this hour
The Hightower inside me
where I cower until a flower blooms
for Him and my eternitychristian kneeling

Lurch turns to me with tears in his eyes,                             he despises his lies,
though he’s twice my size, he don’t buy or surmise
I could take him by surprise in this vulnerable state.

But that’s the old hate trying to generate, tempting fate.
Yo, I’ve jumped that gate!

We say our prayers and look to the sky and wonder why
He doesn’t just fly from us, left in dust, it’s mysterious, but we take the bus,
and head out trusting the day, knowing He’s right there beside us in some way.

Calling on the Power in this hour
The Hightower inside me
where I cower until a flower blooms
for Him and my eternity.

Copyright © 1960-2016 Lawrence J. J. Leonard All rights reserved

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