Saturday, October 1, 2011

Fourth HIgh Holy Day Poem-Chapter Four Book of Ecclesiastes

This is the final poem in this series. Thanks to everyone for their comments. I wrote it not only because of my reading of Ecclesiastes chapter four. A part of this poem is a memory from a man I once knew who recently died. He had achieved great success in business but poor health followed him for years even as far back as the mid 1980s. I hope you will comment.

Chapter four Ecclesiastes

I built my company
A tower piercing
 Through the dense clouds
And when I sold it
 I received a seat
A golden chair
At the table of monarchs.

I liked to walk
In my sculpture garden
Where Henry Moore and friends
Gazed upon me
And I upon them.
Ah the beauty of success!

My back began to hurt
Pain rushed through my bones
Moving me to distraction
Which I could no longer bear.
Then a surgery I never recovered from
In a reflection I could no longer
See myself which is when  
My descent began

I died a few weeks ago
And now all I do is reflect:
Eyes see time in reverse
The moments of the past
The quietude afforded me
Now which I ignored in life
The thoughts I left behind
They were too shy
To visit me in the previous world.

I found a companion here,
Kohelet, I read his book
And I felt the emptiness
The” sacrifices of fools.”

What is wisdom?
A mirage, the worship of work
The deity of my hands?
Or was it
A gust of wind that
Pressing against my face
Left without fanfare?

I read Kohelet’s book
And looked into a mirror
Of memory hearing
 The tumult of sounds and voices  
Wisdom is sight
Without eyes,
Listening without ears

I remember the house I lived in
And the house of God
I never entered.
Wisdom is a prayer
For the unborn
The youth who will
 Pick up a smooth round
Stone by the riverside
That fits perfectly
Into a hand
Whose snap of the wrist
Will cast it across
 The serene waters
To behold the ripples
That propels the stone
To its many destinations.

No comments: