A Hated Nature's Call Poem by Jackie Gerhardy

Brought to the shrine door
And tarries with a look of wonder
A countenance so abashed
Like hearing veiled, distant thunder

Upon the door
Digits hard-pressed
And pushing
an ancient frame abreast
the darkened walls
Dimmed without light
A flame in drawn absence
A flame in fright

Acast the glistened floor
Shaped the body so full and stiff
By part a twisted shadow more
spring light to curve its gift

But a basin burned bright
Red, yellow and striking ginger
Baiting the Ainur to its
familiar depths
Orbs aglow with a pitiless ember

Lingering over the
Basin blaze.
Seemingly peculiar
in all its ways
The man sought the familiar pull
but found nothing lest,
he to be treated
Like an unwelcomed guest.

“In mine own temple? ”
Came his angered shout
Where he wrenched away
and paced about.

Reflections shone beautifully distraught,
seething on every wall
Yearning for what he was rightfully ought
And as if by loud call
at the window he stood.
Tugged, a curtain parted
gawping at what he could.

In the distance
trees dutifully 'round
swaying tunelessly
from which the call resound.
Carried by crafted hand
whispers of voices
And exalted land
The man saw not the natural beauty of it all
yet peered mesmerized by budding branches
Drawing his eye past the crests so tall
Where once new storm drenches.

Nearest these far-off and distant scapes
Climbed the will of one he so hates
Appearing naught before the royal drapes
But mocking him
with all that He creates.

Sing-song the robins
Laments the dove
Crying for your master?
or unworthy of?