Monday, October 19, 2009

The Medallion


Magnificent, and splendid He
Who casts his brilliant gold festoon
Down upon the raging waves

The Ocean, chasing, churning, free
A rebel, heeding only Moon
Dashes froth against the caves

A pitting sorrow smolders now
Within the molten core of light
Clouds of tears shroud gold ideal

A reverent sea to Master bows
Whence, suspended in a silken sky
Sun flows down; but 'tis not real

Thus raw relation’s tempest quelled
But mercy’s never quenched--
Light now tangible is sent

The insolence boasts on, tide-swelled
Though nonetheless with grace is drenched
Dancing, doleful Disk unpent

In thankless spite and wondrous pounding
The pendent for penchant’s forgot
Cavern-hid, it waits as dead

Though cast away, a thundrous sounding
Resounds, surrounds, as empty rought
Of that tyranny--naught said

Awaiting silently instead
In still resplendence golden
Matter-shaft--Medallion

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