I Sing to Eternity

To an unmet friend:

You see the mortal world
And for you man is machine
Little more than a device
For the vagaries of evolution,
Faith is illusion, hope lacks
Weight— and love? Can love
Be other than mere sex,
Nature’s sole mandate?

And your science now tells
You: what can I ever know?
All is a quantum topsy-turvy,
And mother nature part
Whore, part illusionist….
Your thinking breaks all
Down to little pieces,
And nothing matters
As matter is all while
Science the only god
Left for us to worship.

And we are nothing,
Not even dreams
Anymore, just bits
And pieces to be
Examined, classified
And then ignored—
For science is all,
And faith but a
Refuge for fools.

You are honest,
I know—you see
Yourself as just
Another machine,
Destined for decay,
Then destruction—
Your sentience but
A cruel joke told
Yet again—and
No one laughs.

You and I,
We breathe,
We think,
We live—but
You would stop
At death while
I begin there….

I sing to the eternal,
Quell not my songs,
As they rise above
The despair born
Of your vacant
World, following
Stars streaming
Their wondrous
Light in a dead-
Cold universe.

I sing to Eternity,
I sing to my soul!

The Leap

I was half-mad with despair,
Hopeless in love and life,
At the end of my rope—
So I chose to drown,
To cease all pain in
Sweet oblivion, to be
No more, to be gone….

And when I flung my
Young and strong body
Into that swollen river,
I thought that’s what
Awaited me—nothing!
But oh I was so wrong,
For my agnostic mind
Could not foresee the
Awaiting vast blackness,
The pain beyond pain,
And the utter aloneness—
No other souls, none
But my bodiless mind
That had spurned God
And love as well, and
Now roiled in torment,
Until I called out to Him
And was released
From hell to return
To the world I had
So recently spurned.

Some will discount
This as the ravings
Of a young man
Breaking apart—
It’s only fear, just
Imagined terrors,
Be brave they say,
Neither heaven nor
Hell awaits us, our
Only fate, extinction.

I might wish them
To be right, but
They are deluded—
As I once was, for
Now I know there
Is no way out, no
Escape from oneself,
From one’s mind,
From one’s soul….

Death Has No Bed

Death has no bed, no tomb,

not even a slice of earth…

death is less than a summer

shadow to the soul, passing

o’er it softer than a breath,

quieter than a heartbeat.

Though ruthless with life,

Death is faint and weak

against eternity, and Death

impotent when love nears,

a coward shrinking and

stumbling as love burrows

into the grave or seeps

into the urn, seeking a

beloved soul as it makes

its way to God….

Echoes of God

I sometimes find myself

listening for God’s footsteps

as He treads softly, oh, ever

so softly round about me….

I sometimes find myself wanting

to shake God’s hand, gently, lest

my own hand is crushed….

I sometimes find myself wanting

to give Him a big bear hug,

wrapping my arms around the

endless warmth of Divinity…

I sometimes find myself wanting

to talk with God, to have a most

pleasant and low-key chat about

the meaning of life and death….

But I can’t, I know: how could

anyone survive touching God ?

It would be safer to climb a

high-tension pole and reach out

and put my bare hands on the wire

as 50,000 volts course through

my body and my soul is expelled.

It’s just… my longing for Him,

to hear, to feel, to touch, to see

the Lord of All the Worlds….

I suppose I should be happy just

hearing the echoes of God in

the rhythm of rain or the songs

of birds or the giggles of kids

as they play in their own world.

And I am happy to hear His echoes.

Nolo Segundo, pen name of L.j. Carber 76, has in his 8th decade had poems and essays published in over 150 literary journals/anthologies in 12 countries and a trade publisher, Cyberwit.net, has released 3 poetry books: The Enormity of Existence [2020; Of Ether and Earth[2021]; and Soul Sings [2022].  A retired English/ESL teacher [America, Japan, Taiwan, Cambodia], he has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net.