The Precursor
~by Giulio Aristide Sartoria
Tag: Art
The Art of Alfred Eaker
The Art of Alfred Eaker
… the best kept secret on WordPress.
Beatitudes Born of Magnificat ©Alfred Eaker 2018
via Of Mysticism and Social Justice: Beatitudes Born of Magnificat — ALFRED EAKER
Upon a Dragon’s Breath
Upon a Dragon’s Breath
(and the Persistence of Grace)
This existence
an enigma
A never ending search
for perfection
all wrapped up
in a shroud of destruction
From a mirror shattered
humanity’s bloodied
and battered reflection
Like a Rising Stone
Like a Rising Stone
~ un hommage
A time for life
to seek
to be found
To feel
and to be touched
To hear truth
How sweet the sound
To taste goodness
Goodness to be tasted
To love and to be loved
Without the Divine
the time of your life
. . . truly wasted
A Vampire Slayer Wedding
I must admit
that I was rather upset
and even a little bit jealous
when Buffy the Vampire Slayer
walked down the aisle with Angelus
The Grand Artisan
God, the ultimate Artist.
The supreme Scientist.
The intimate presence within,
and throughout this existence.
Regenesis … poetry in motion.
Is she masculine?
Or is he feminine?
Is the answer
beyond our understanding?
Is this life
but an artistic documentary?
Seen through all the agony
and the ecstasy …
the triumph and the tragedy?
Have we truly
been given a free hand
by the Artisan Grand?
Or are we rats in a laboratory?
Are we but particles
within the part and parcel
of subatomic intricacy?
Just mere quarks
traversing the dark?
An infinitesimal part
of a dimension mechanical?
Speaking relativity,
where is the power and the glory?
A perpetual quantum
crunching the numbers
in some mindless continuum.
Is that the universal story?
The Elvis of God
. . . and the Glam Rock
A child playing
with wildfire rebellion
The croupier who deals you in
swiftly twisting
sweet venom on the tongue
with chemical smoke rising
Into the wasteland
of a wandering soul
a toxic river is flowing
Body and spirit
within the echo of a scream
paying a heavy toll
Caught in the tangled web
of a deceptive dream
The gambler seduced
with an empty hand
upon a dying bed
For heaven’s sake
sleepwalkers awake
Is it ever too late
to make the big break?
Who’s pulling the strings?
Can you hear the truth
when the Elvis of God sings?
