Treasure Island

Francois Hoon

(18 January 1982 - / Pretoria, South Africa)

Search For The Divine


Words are few to describe the gentle crackling of an early dawn
When dark turns to life in a crisp new bristling
When enthused winged creatures stir away the nightly yawn
With sounds of verve on green growth moist’ning
Oh the marvel of passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills

When in the midst of those who speak with crudeness
With tongues dragging forlorn in the slums of mind
From mouths that leak into bits of lewdness
I yearn to places apart from the residue of such kind
To the marvel of passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills

I stand at a coast on the rocks in the night
Gazing out over waters with waves at wild
On the skyline flashes of lightning with might
Light the dark brooding clouds and rain falling mild
Oh this marvel of passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills

A day-by-day dwelling through the mindsets of mass
A gray weary walk through the tunes of this plight
With compulsions of comfort composed by a reigning class
I long to be free from the desolate symphony of man’s delight
And to marvel at the passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills

When an old haggard soul cross my way
From wounds of before dried up and bare
And new waters soak his spirit to fertile clay
For luscious life to sprout with sparkling dare
I marvel at this passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills

From a place deep within the core of depravity
Ripples of damage rise and shake stability
Tearing up a world to die a debased cavity
Of famine, lust and greed which smiles, reveling its ability
Oh I crave the marvel of passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills

I can no more refrain from calling His Name
He’s the only music to the silence of death
My Father, Friend and Christ who took our blame
Symphony of life and harmony of love
He is the marvel of passion that fills
The root of beauty piercing senses when our hearts stills

(2008-09-15)

Submitted: Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Search For The Divine by Francois Hoon )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Californian, Brian Teare
  2. Creation Of Inner Being, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  3. Death (Haiku), Jesus James Llorico
  4. Voyage of the Wedding-Guest, Victor Cruickshank
  5. Irrevocable Friend, nikka mee farillon
  6. Silent Awakening, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  7. I Still Read..... For Sandra Feldman, Michael McParland
  8. The Great Waters, Victor Cruickshank
  9. Continually Entering The Present, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  10. তুমি থাকলে পাশে, Dr. Prabir Acharjee Nayan

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]