Finis Coronat Opus

My eyelids grow heavy; The day has been long. My soul groweth weary, And mournful, my song. My thoughts are now drifting As my eyes start to close, And sights other-worldly Dart hence, to and fro. Like fireflies that linger In dusk's even glow, Images flicker As consciousness goes. In fair fields I wander, With fairies I fly; Worlds of such wonder Lie under my eyes. What dreams may then follow In blissful repose: All cares are forgotten, All silenced are woes. But soon with the dawn's Eastern glow I must rise, Departing my slumber's Fair journeys of night. Yet day's own enchantment Unseen will abound Til evening falls softly Again on the ground. My eyes will then close, My mind again drift Away to my magical world, Slumber's faery gift. Written September 2018

From whence do strife and rumor come? Why thus do they take hold, When poison drips from silvery tongue And falsehood dim the gold? Why thus do neighbors speak so ill Of friends and comrades dear, Who oft would set their hand to till And share their fellows’ tears? Such thoughtless chatter ought not be  Among the ranks of Light; Such darkened words no tongue should speak,  But seek to mend and right. Originally written February 2019

  In deepest solitude I sit; My mind begins to stray To thoughts of years in distant past And coming future days. The past lies just beyond my reach And aching, my heart yearns  To live again those moments fair, Those lessons to relearn. But fading, mem’ries of those days Melt deep into the mist Of Time’s dark chasm, shadowed dim, In lost lore locked away. Yet what I am came forth from such As now is long forgot; And stamped upon my features firm Is that which now is not. Now, forward wends my wand’ring gaze To times as yet unseen: The years to come hold myst’ries dark With many tales to glean. I know not what my life shall be,  What stories I shall weave;  But time to come is but a breath Before the One Who sees.        During certain seasons or times of the year, I find myself reflecting on the past (my own and in general), and musing on the future. What have I gleaned from past experience, wisdom that has been passed o...

Where have all the good men gone?  There’s still a battle to be won, Yet ranks have dwindled down to none And those still here are pale and wan. Away they’ve gone to seek a name, Their fortune, honor, glory, fame;  But war is here, the evil bane And none to battle, none remain. Rally, captains, call your men  That battles may be won again. Their swords shall gleam, their bows shall bend: Our armies shall the vict’ry win! I wrote this poem 6 years ago, and since then have witnessed many "good men" rise and fight their battles in many areas of life. As a new year begins, this sentiment is at the forefront of my mind; how will I engage my enemies and push others to face their own? Am I merely caught up in introspection, or do those thoughts have an end in accomplishing a goal? Am I focusing on a narrow point in the distance rather than facing the battle in front of me? I generally don't make New Year's resolutions (in the modern sense of the term), but I greatly apprecia...