The passion of nothingness,
the mad convulsion of the first kiss,
the fleece touch of making love,
the chaos of peace,
the stillness of war.
We the children of Rousseau
born to perfect reason,
or
Voltaire’s progeny
inspired to this Romantic season,
or C.S. Lewis teaching us
to kill
Freud with a slip;
Does this all lead to
far and near
a pause and
a spin,
like Jesus under a fig tree,
or Buddha dying for selfless love.
Life contradicts itself
then finds the parallel
scales of reason—
through it all
as young men die
and veterans are made immortal—
our light does spark
and meets the raven,
as we put pad to pen.
Inspired.
Yet, perhaps as innocent
as treason.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Awesome work. Great sentiments with nice style. Great write indeed. I rate it 10. TFS. Please read and rate my poem 'A daring hope' on page 1.