In you, I have found my heart's true home,
A love that has flourished, and has never roamed,
Your eyes sparkle like the stars up above,
And in your embrace, I find peace and love.
With each passing day, my love for you grows,
Like a river that flows, and endlessly knows,
It's the way your smile lights up the room,
And how your laughter dispels all gloom.
You are the one who completes my soul,
A part of me that's never felt whole,
And in your arms, I find my rest,
A place where I feel forever blessed.
Together we are stronger, and we can conquer all,
We can climb every mountain, and rise above every fall,
For in each other, we have found the strength we need,
To face every challenge, and to always succeed.
In you, I have found my forever love,
A gift from above, sent from the heavens above,
And I will cherish you for all time,
My love for you will forever shine.
-new king
About the Creator
A Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
By Rob Angeli5 days ago in Poets
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis5 days ago in Humans
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.