Home > Creative Writing > Poetry
Created on: July 16, 2009
Rather I waste away in the solitude and loneliness of my own hearth,
or shall I be content to live amongst the ravenous exploits of this modern age?
Tell you I might, that only infinity knows and I shall be,
upon examination, the one so truly divine in my own steps.
I shall be called upon this retreat, when the moon shines high and round,
and the sun knows no remorse, for it shines always in my soul and in the sky.
I shall then take heed to your wisdom, and once the raven calls,
I shall call upon thee,
saying that there shall be no other place on this earth that hath the beauty and eternal serenity that you so speak.
And I, in my solemn path, shall once again take favor on the forever-shining sun
to the destiny that calls itself eternity and peace.
Must I regress to reality? My eyes can see, yet I am blind.
I can see nothing around me. My spirit has soared high;
the dreadfulness of coming back haunts me.
I will visit; I may stay. This is a journey of divine wisdom,
great knowledge and everlasting truth.
I will make a journey, one day. I can promise this.
No worry, my friend, no worry. I know your feelings about it;
I have that place too.
I will visit your world, as you may visit mine.
And die there I will, in the earthly paradise that we call our own.
I promise you this as well, my bones shall be food for the earth;
may it grow from me and carry on generations;
I will be there always in body and spirit.
Learn more about this author, Karla Hernandez.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.
Below are the top articles rated and ranked by Helium members on:
Poetry: Spiritual path
On life's great path I start to wander
Naive, I begin a search for answers
By no twist of fate the road would fork
God Wants Me Home
I lay in my bed,
alone in my room.
My time is near,
I await my doom.
My room is cold,
with an eerie thickness,
by Rayneonfire
We Do Not Walk Alone
She walked by herself today, not wanting to be near anyone
She looked at all the beauty around as she
by Jon Coe
To what end can I own my life
Who chooses to wield the knife
When is it really time to let go
How many seeds are mine to
by Allyn Smith
Holy Traveler
I come to fare from west of the wind
I ride on high like a ship upon the sea
cast on the foam of inequity
ordained
View All Articles on: Poetry: Spiritual path