In A Cloud Of Great Unknowing

pyroclastic_flow

(source)

Fell ashes, in a cloud of great unknowing,

Flaken debris settled where it touched,

Seared the skin and edified the temples,

Encased, engulfed the living truth in dust,

Magmatised the mantle in a grey shroud,

Displayed treasures, lost in hearths of stone,

Embers died, the light, a distant mem’ry,

Crushed by mortar, pestled into bone.

Fell ashes, in a cloud of great unknowing,

From the heavens, from the centre, east and west,

Built and buried, bona fide, forgotten,

Climactic, pyrrhic victory, at best.

Excavations, earth’s enduring history,

Discovered worlds, through ages’ hidden signs,

By life and death, revealed, in ashes fallen,

Cloud of great unknowing writes the times.

 

Paul’s wonderful poem, Imagining Atlantis, set me off on one.

The Artists

They came one day, you know, to restless spirits,

Strangers from a land far distant than we’d known,

Turned the tide of thinking, conquered limits,

Listened we, while learning what was shown.

They took all paintings, turned the easels sideways,

Abstracted truths from angles we had drawn,

Drew artistic from most basic wonders,

Revealed to us where sketches had gone wrong.

They painted beauty from a palette given

From worlds away we hoped one day to be,

Rainbow-hued with every nuance woven,

Brights and delicates we could not see.

Works of art they held up for our wonder,

Turned us upside down then set us straight,

Silent seconds, time stood still to ponder,

Patiently they tuned in to debate.

Revelations flashed amid our teardrops,

Teardrops fell and flooded, tinted shades

Every picture seen, a brand new story,

Colour-washed but clearer by the fade.

They left, you know, and we there standing, staring,

Gazing into past and future days,

Breathed new life, they did, unto the present,

Departed now in starry-brilliant haze.