Cosmic Shadows

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blood moon

Lunar Eclipse ~ 27th July 2018 ~ As observed from Hingol National Park, Balochistan

 

Thy shadow, Earth, from Pole to Central Sea,
Now steals along upon the Moon’s meek shine
In even monochrome and curving line
Of imperturbable serenity.

How shall I link such sun-cast symmetry
With the torn troubled form I know as thine,
That profile, placid as a brow divine,
With continents of moil and misery?

And can immense Mortality but throw
So small a shade, and Heaven’s high human scheme
Be hemmed within the coasts yon arc implies?

Is such the stellar gauge of earthly show,
Nation at war with nation, brains that teem,
Heroes, and women fairer than the skies?

Thomas Hardy

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All that lives is holy

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We look for light in the

heart of darkness

We believe it resides

in opaque wombs

waiting to be born

by those who wish to see

like the promise of life

 in ornamented tombs

Light of heavens and earth

in a niche with a lamp in a glass

lit from the oil of a tree

neither of east nor west

 

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Audience

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you witnessed your creation

organ by organ,

sense by sense,

as bone fused into bone

godly matter filled your vessel

like water flowing downhill

as nerve merged into nerve

consciousness was formed

like a frictional spark

as gene ate a gene

destiny drew its maps

it was the best dream

King’s monologue from Henry VI

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O God! methinks it were a happy life,
To be no better than a homely swain;
To sit upon a hill, as I do now,
To carve out dials quaintly, point by point,
Thereby to see the minutes how they run,
How many make the hour full complete;
How many hours bring about the day;
How many days will finish up the year;
How many years a mortal man may live.
When this is known, then to divide the times:
So many hours must I tend my flock;
So many hours must I take my rest;
So many hours must I contemplate;
So many hours must I sport myself;
So many days my ewes have been with young;
So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean:
So many years ere I shall shear the fleece:
So minutes, hours, days, months, and years,
Pass’d over to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely!

 

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Shakespeare

Women’s day

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Man

…

thou unworthy vessel of my noble seed

never shall thy station exceed

than a subject of my will and object of my lead

thou shall breathe when I say breathe

thou shall bleed when I say bleed

kiss the dirt that I tread; ’tis the best of thy deed

 

 

Woman

…

thou undeserving vessel of God-given meed

on thy own flesh dost thou feed

heaven-vast thy vanity, ocean-deep thy greed

waste of consciousness thou earth-eating weed

not afar lies the age when I shall be freed

from thy miserly hand and ungodly creed

 

 

Angel

…

thou ungrateful vassals of Almighty,  yield!

to thy Lord’s power, bow down, take heed!

thou were created in pairs; each others’ need

brief is thy life, as life of a sweat bead

not hatred, malice and envy but breed

gentleness, love and honor on earth, succeed! 

 

 

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