Amidst the burst of joy 

In pink spring blossoms 

Early morning birdsong 

Reborn brooks and gamboling lambs

On the hillside… 

An ominous gathering storm 

Brews in the pit 

of my usually tranquil stomach,

In the dark hollows 

Behind my liquid eyes 

Undefinable to others

But palpable to the Geiger counter 

Of my soul. 


I feel the stirring 

of an existential angst

Such as I’ve never felt 

To this extent 

In the backward glance 

Over my life’s journey.


What is happening 

In our world to date?

Is it the beginning of the end times

I was warned of by the angels 

in no uncertain terms 

In my innocent teen years?

I feel it is upon us. 

The heavy descent of evil 

Casts an interminable shadow 

Across our verdant beloved lands 

Across our rich rotund globe.


The faint smell of death 

Desired, designed, determined (possibly?) 

To cull humanity’s reach

Upon the rich green grasses of Gaia. 

Planned for eons

In the dark halls of destiny’s reach

The war of Heaven and Hell 

Playing out like a chess game

On and through the unsuspecting 

Human race. 


The end times

The birthing times

A split between two 

diametrically opposed realities

Each struggling to find 

Seeming supremacy 

To win the battle of apparent 

Good and evil.

Is there a way,

Could there be a way,

A tender possibility even 

Of union between these grueling 

Dwelling opposites?


I do not know,

Though I do desperately care

To wrestle with this shadow,

Unresolved dilemma, 

Other side of Self,

And tease out the harmony 

The sweet harmony 

From the present cacophony 

Perhaps to bring unity to disparity 

Beauty to discord 

Grace to strife.


One by one, 

We stop and listen 

Look and struggle to birth 

Our true Self 

The Sovereign Self 

To bring to bear on the game of life.

Following our deepest solo call

Part of the wild symphony 

Of the whole. 


And slowly slowly 

Like a flock of swans 

We rise up and start to soar –

Lifting the earth 

And all of us 

To the higher quest

The deepest tones 

Of pure unequivocal love –

Our final redemption.


© Julie Tara (5.29.21)

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