My temple is the sky,
Which speaks to me
In passing moments
Too brief to truly capture
But not too brief to see
⦿
My hearth and home
Is this, our earth, enraptured
My body-brain became its child
And yet, ‘I’ am a child of sun
And, in me, loved, as in you
Ascends a different eye
⦿
My solace is the ocean
Which fills the Earth with fluid life
The eye that rises feels and knows
The arrow of its suffering
The archer’s keen intent and goal
The force behind the wish, unleashed
⦿
The eye that was the earth
And drank the wine of life
Now raises sight to fire of sky
And sees beyond
Wherein the seeker, sought
Becomes the arrow’s path
From fragile fingers long relaxed
⦿
My temple is the Sky,
Which speaks to me
in passing moments
Too brief to truly capture
But not too brief to see
⦿
©Stephen Tanham
Oh I love this Steve.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Pensivity!
LikeLike
Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
LikeLike
“My solace is the ocean…” says it all for me… Lovely poem, Steve…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jaye – and for the reblogs. I feel I should turn up with a glass of pre-Christmas sherry! x
LikeLiked by 1 person
You would be welcome, Steve, but I don’t like sherry…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Sue x
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Stuart France.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Stu.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful and profound Steve. My solace is the ocean alright. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
A shared thing then, Debbie. Thank you.
LikeLike