Tagarchief: final

Word

“In the beginning was the Word…” 
John, 1, 1
“When you see ‘the abomination that causes
desolation’ standing where it does not belong
– let the reader understand- flee to the mountains.”
Mark, 13, 14
                             

                                
Some words are leaves, they grow, they whither,
then they fall to merge with soil only to feed
again what by some long forgotten wind was
destined at first sight to vanish and never to
return,
some words are mountain winds, they
travel, they vaporize
and merge with clouds,
and when the oceans call,
they become rain
to feed the rolling waves that
with a mighty
roar deliver treasure to the waiting
reapers on
forgotten shores, some words are
tears, they
flow, they testify, they merge with
silence only
to feed the hunger of a deeper
craving, they are
the vessels of forgotten fleets
that in forgotten
ports wait for the wingmen to
return their due,
some words are windows opening, while others
then are closing doors, 
some are the swords
which
on forgotten battlefields are left, their
shimmering blades
making the rising sun turn
red, but most of all,
whatever they may be,
all words eventually shall by 
The Writer be
reclaimed and then each one of them
shall have
to take the stand, each one of them
shall be
confronted with the verdict of its Maker,
stripped from all  meaning, naked, eye to Eye,
as well remembered  as forgotten ones are heard,
and Paradise shall be the reward for those  believing
in the final revelation of
 the Promised Word.

(picture: I Ching > “Change”)

Sword

When at my door your final bell will ring
I shall remember those who opened, let
you in and begged for one last song to sing,
who thought a mercy prayer would convince
to have a pardon granted by this prince

When at my door your final bell will ring
I shall remember those who weren’t in
but uninvited, still got lifted by your wing,
who while preparing for a glorious flight
were grounded brutally, take off denied

When at my door your final bell will ring
I shall remember those who welcomed
you as royalists their banished king
who after years of fruitless fight
eventually got their heart’s delight

When at my door your final bell will ring
I shall remember all, praise the Almighty,
challenge your sword with mine then swing
so that my blade will testify that it is I
who at the doors riposted to your passing by

painting: Ferdinand Vercnocke, ‘Mars’, Oil on canvas, 100x80cm
top img = wooden handmade sword, present to my 2nd son by his friend