The Divine

REX MUNDI

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Your Gaze,

Engages and Arrests

*

Simultaneously

you consider us,

all the while

scanning your own inner depths

Eliciting us to do the same

*

your Lapis robe, that of a high priestess,

shimmers satin, perhaps velvet

*

Cloth fit for a Queen

*

the intricacy of your extended curls

merging with

the embroidered gold geometric trimming

crisscrossing an immanent bosom

invite us to wonder

Are you Man, Woman?

seemingly You Are Both

*

the Orb and the Mudra compel

us to ponder the Nature

of your Presence

the Meaning of Your Maker

*

there is Enigma

there is No Enigma

*

Salvator Mundi

*

Leonardo Da Vinci

 

The Call

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*

Can you hear the geese?

the wiring sounds

of so many wings

in motion

A Reminder

of unremitting Change

*

the punctuated Call:

we’re here, there’s water

let‘s settle

for a moment

*

can you hear the geese

she says again

Elated

the honking cacophony

passes overhead

lasting

like the passing of a train

*

the Sound

*

a crescendo swelling

then fading

into the twilight

of damp Earth

*

the punctuality

of Nature

driven by degrees

of Sunlight

a gland

pineal

*

can you hear them

she says

*

through and through

I reply

through and through

*

adjustednick-zungoligeese-flight-bw

*

Ink

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Ancient like Resin

Revealing itself with a Glimmer

Then Fading

into the empty

Darkness of Silence

a matter of revelation

of Readiness, Timing

No cause, no effect

Rather Seizing

The promise of a Moment

like a hand lazily

waiting in the water

for the yielding Fish

the one who says:

“Take me, take me Now”

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

PLUTO Ruler of the Underworld

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A queen concealed

behind the mask of a male deity

your Realm, the undifferentiated

instinctual world, defines

our humanity or lack thereof

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the earthbound laws of our world incarnate

limitations of our flesh

painful or ecstatic

your promise, trial by fire

leaves us with Bare Bones,

the beauty of which, unfathomable,

cannot be apprehended

*

the miracle of feeling

the Core of one’s existence

feared as punishment

experienced as the expiation

of hubris and its artifice

*

You rumble beneath us

shaming our lives wrapped

in the illusion of grandiosity:

we are but peons of honor

as we tread this Earth

struggling with your rules

until exhausted, we surrender

transform

or die

Pluto

Pluto

The Man with Grass Growing on his Back

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Suffused Into our Humanity

As You Are,

You Breathe

Our breath,

Sigh our Sighs

Move with us like Water and Wind

Tug at our Bellies

some of us Listen

Others Not

sometimes you have a flute

sometimes a fork,  a cup, or crowned with vine,

Millennia of Descriptions

have tried a hand

at Portrayal

we fail however at seeing

You

part of Us

Earthbound

Mysterious

Instinctual Wisdom

so frowned upon

by centuries of  Virgin Birth

followed by centuries of Reason

Yet you defy them all

Carrying, as you do

an Intelligence

not to be changed

By Place or Time

Painting by Felix Vallotton La Source

Painting by Felix Vallotton
La Source

 

The Rhododendron Lady

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Your lips, Quiz

Art Work by Jessica Hengen

Art Work by Jessica Hengen

squinting, you peer

into our World

and Wonder

why did I come here?

 

Laced with heady Blossoms

Succulent leaves

always Verdant

you look at us

and Wonder

why so much Effort?

 

Embalmed with persuasive fragrance

you interrogate the substance

of our Lives

Wonder

why so much Pain?

 

Girdled by your Dark crown

caught between two worlds

you come forward

as we toil,

Inquire

what have I done?

 

with every question

another leaf,

sometimes a bloom,

As queen you bear

many names,

As one of us

an outsider

you give Solace

to Some

Annoyance to others

 

the ambiguity

of your presence

a reminder

how feeling discomfort

can be a blessing

in Disguise

My King, My King

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Buried in the hidden confines

of my Mind

You Reside

your throne, so Dark

under years of antiquated

Luster

*

You sit, pensive,

always pensive,

even when you smile

*

It is eternally Dusk

in your Chamber

but never cold

 *

Kindly you invite me in

with a Nod

Kindly too, you offer me a seat,

*

but I cannot sit,

instead, I wait,

wait for your question,

the one that will allow

me to tell you

just how much I love you

Here, in this Chamber

and beyond

*

My King,

of long ago,

My Heart

*

Painting By George Rouault The Old King

Painting By George Rouault
The Old King

Autumn Light

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The AfterGlow

of Summer’s

Blinding Brilliance

When we Rise

with Golden Luminosity

Rest

in Reddish Radiance

*

The Color of  Leaves Transforming

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Summer’s Intelligence

in the Fall

 Becomes Perception,

Mindfulness

in the Winter

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Gradations of Light

The Sun’s Distance

From Glare to Luster

 what can be Seen

to what must be

Understood

the Scope

of our Lives

*

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

To The Beloved

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As I await your arrival

I gather strength.

Folded up like a Bat in Winter

I draw upon deep sleep

With every day passing

our renewal Closens

in my readying I collect

the warmth with which

I will Unfold to meet you,

stretch my winged span

try my Blind eyes

in the night’s Thickness

full of Trust

in my unfailing Radar,

to find you, beside me

Photograph By Nick Zungoli

Photograph By Nick Zungoli

A T O M S

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*

Particles, Infinitesimally Small

Bonding Repelling

Repeatedly

Creating Matter

As we know it

Us, as we Are

Matching Composition

Of Stars and all Manner of Life

Reproducing Endlessly, Dying

Disintegrating,

something else takes our place

Life Rolling Into Itself

Tirelessly

*

Can we stop a Moment

Take a look, Shudder

As we Marvel in the Redundancy

Of our Minds?

*

Why Are We Here?

*

Art Work by Yaron Rosner

Art Work by Yaron Rosner