THE CITADEL OF CREATIVITY

AT times my Soul requires a lordly presence
perchance a house built by His hands to dwell
I pray, “Oh Lord, mend this heart and Spirit,
Dear Lord, to make all well.”

A shack built of Palo Santo trees our friends
of frankincense and myrrh is what I’d choose.
THAT He traverse illuminated fortifications,
Emerging swiftly from verdant foundations
Of the meadow, with its grassy embrace,
As the radiance He ascends with grace.

Thereon I raise it, firm as could be told,
On ledges, shelves, where rocks in glory roll.
My soul, in solitude, sought to dwell
Within His lofty palace’s sacred spell.

In chambers lofty, secrets I will keep,
Where winding stairs lead to heights so steep.
Alone, my spirit yearns for solitude’s embrace,
Within those walls, where tranquility finds its place.

Oh, His high palace, a realm for the soul,
Where dreams unfurl and passions take their toll.
In solitude’s sweet refuge, my heart finds rest,
Within those hallowed halls, by solitude blessed.

“And as the world doth spin and twirl,” I said,
“Thou, in seclusion, reign as a tranquil king,
Steadfast as Saturn, in his cosmic tread,
Resting upon his radiant, eternal ring.”

While the chaos of existence ceaseless flows,
Thou, in thy solitude, maintain thy throne,
A beacon of serenity, amidst life’s throes,
Unperturbed, undisturbed, and all alone.

Amidst the whirlwinds of the ever-turning sphere,
Thou art the calm within the ceaseless dance,
Like Saturn’s shadow, constant and clear,
Embracing stillness, in a celestial trance.

:: 06.22.2023 ::