A Feather on the Anvil

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Explosions of rain hit this busied sill,
While the patter of atom bombs churns the earth,
A bolting feather lands by quill,
And on the gentle anvil; a pen’s miraculous birth.

Those warriors of forgotten lore,
Soldiers march along the wrinkled margins,
The beauty of our cannon’s gore,
No longer bound by rowdy sergeants.

And with a mind of purity and peace,
May one truly come to a tranquil oasis,
Where a feather is plucked of infertile geese,
And man finds his non-existent places.

Because a dream is only a dream’s,
The simple reality of our being,
Proves we are not as it seems,
That we are not what we are seeing.

And we act upon our home as mindless vandals,
We must think; what makes us human?
Are we like gentle anvils?
Or just grow like stalks of colored cumin?

For we are split of two forms,
That of the deadly feather or harmless anvil,
Each shall weather all storms,
But that of corruption is that of man will.

As for the other? Shall I reveal?
You have seen and so can live,
Handed down with the holiest of seal,
Eternal bliss like dreams the Lord shall give.





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thetruthawaits94 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Aug. 5, 2011 at 8:20 pm

I thought i understood this poem, but then i realized i read it wrong. somehow my brain read the harmless feather and the deadly anvil. So i had to read it like three times trying to figure out the gentle anvil thing. I don't think i get it still. :( i wish  i understood.. I understand the fourth stanza. I absolutely love it, and it had me thinking a lot. We always wish and dream to be like we want to be, but we never are as perfect as our dreams. I also love that last stanza. SOO... (more »)

 
ritabelle511 said...
Jun. 28, 2011 at 5:51 pm
Wow...Bill, your poems are always so deep! I really enjoyed the philosophical questions presented at the end of this piece. Fantastic work!
 
CarolynQ said...
Jun. 21, 2011 at 2:33 pm
Your words simply make my thoughts run laps around themself.  Which means you've blown my mind again. A bit complicated to understand, but poetry is suppose to make you think and you certainly made me do just that. :)
 
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