Late at night

When the
7 silver stars
Gyrate across
The midnight sky;
Quelling sister’s
Great despair
I by soft white light
Of virgin moon
And 100 stringed
And glowing stars
lie sleeping,
eyes closed
in eternal stare,
And you whisper
Sweetly, gently,
In my ear,
Cathartic words
Of love,
and selves repair.


Call it a a “translation” or reinterpretation of an ancient poet and one of his works:

Your love leads me
along the treed and verdant paths
Along the babbling brooks that speak of vast and endless silence.
I often walk with eyes closed
My blind steps treading
on right roads,
hearing only your music and your name to guide me,
to the sacred destinations of the heart;
And even though at times
I walk encompassed by the depths of darkness,
The darkest forces
Of the night
my faith
your example guide me
To leave me no fear.
And so the bountiful tables
Are often spread out before me
In the midst of all the many that would harbour me ill will;
That would see me harmed and lowly
to placate troubled souls.
Your gifts are many,
rich,and blessings;
a finger dipped in oil,
an abundance
Of the flowing fruit of vine;
Your well springs of
Water, life, and wine
revive me
I seek, I walk,
Sure footed and
In your paths of goodness
and compassion,
To arrive,
And rest finally
in the unending
mansion habitations
of your love.