The Weight of the World

Fiction & Literature, Poetry, American
Cover of the book The Weight of the World by Patrick J. Leach, Patrick J. Leach
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Author: Patrick J. Leach ISBN: 9781311694942
Publisher: Patrick J. Leach Publication: March 25, 2016
Imprint: Smashwords Edition Language: English
Author: Patrick J. Leach
ISBN: 9781311694942
Publisher: Patrick J. Leach
Publication: March 25, 2016
Imprint: Smashwords Edition
Language: English

Vessels of Stars
Vessels of stars sailing
With our dead walking their decks
Through the little pinpoints of light

Vague white-capped angels
In hollow rest
Helping and protecting us on earth

And the love we make
Desperate to shine forth
White birch bark with fading, uneven black lines

So insufficient are our days here
So feeble our ability to truly touch another being
To relate the essence of who and what we are

Somber, we try, our never-ending desire to be
Inside another sentience, let our hands release
Our hold on the things of steel, stone, wood, glass, gold.

Release, to cleave onto, and not let go
But love exasperates, cannot be drunk or owned
Only felt and possibly shared in the moment.

Everything in Spirit’s good time
As we walk our path through life together,
Each being locked inside its prison of flesh,blood,
and dust

Terrifying

This constantly changing world
Unstable,unpredictable.

In an aging fragile body
Run by a defective, addictive
self-centered mind

Quickly moving toward
an uncertain end

Dependent on others, unworthy
of long-term trust

Reaching out to God
Whom I cannot see, or touch

Depending on faith to live
in this world one more day

WHO WILL CARRY THE WORLD?

One
Brush oil paint on tightly woven burlap
Crisscross patterns with large wooden
Stretcher bars
Let it dry under sunlight, starlight,
Moonlight; go out there tonight
Listen closely to your heart beating,
A symphony with blood, air and life
Rushing in
Think of crickets and fireflies
Hopelessly trapped here on earth, joyous
Creatures
Light the candles on the table outside
Apply new paint with brushes and pallet knives,
Mix in the teardrops as you paint with shadows
Drawn in from candles and moonlight hearing
The lonely distant trains sounding out as they
Pass through
Now it is time to tell God what is on
Your mind knowing the paint dries slowly.
God is patient, especially with you.
What will you say,
And will it all be true?

Two

The stars blink once or twice every night
They are busy now, making light
The neighbors try to sleep
The dogs and cats up late
Wondering who will be left when
They leave
Who will count the waves at the sea?
Who will ponder riddles and walk the maze?
Who will carry the world on one’s back?
Make light of darkness and fill outer space?

Frivolity cannot perform the calculations
Nor supercomputers with highest Internet
What is needed is undiminished joy offered
Up in spite of every problem encountered
Outstretched hands dipping water out of the river,
Expecting nothing
Listening to crickets, watching fireflies
Allowing the world to carry itself
Wherever it wants to go

Life
Working between
Intervals
Of rest and play

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Vessels of Stars
Vessels of stars sailing
With our dead walking their decks
Through the little pinpoints of light

Vague white-capped angels
In hollow rest
Helping and protecting us on earth

And the love we make
Desperate to shine forth
White birch bark with fading, uneven black lines

So insufficient are our days here
So feeble our ability to truly touch another being
To relate the essence of who and what we are

Somber, we try, our never-ending desire to be
Inside another sentience, let our hands release
Our hold on the things of steel, stone, wood, glass, gold.

Release, to cleave onto, and not let go
But love exasperates, cannot be drunk or owned
Only felt and possibly shared in the moment.

Everything in Spirit’s good time
As we walk our path through life together,
Each being locked inside its prison of flesh,blood,
and dust

Terrifying

This constantly changing world
Unstable,unpredictable.

In an aging fragile body
Run by a defective, addictive
self-centered mind

Quickly moving toward
an uncertain end

Dependent on others, unworthy
of long-term trust

Reaching out to God
Whom I cannot see, or touch

Depending on faith to live
in this world one more day

WHO WILL CARRY THE WORLD?

One
Brush oil paint on tightly woven burlap
Crisscross patterns with large wooden
Stretcher bars
Let it dry under sunlight, starlight,
Moonlight; go out there tonight
Listen closely to your heart beating,
A symphony with blood, air and life
Rushing in
Think of crickets and fireflies
Hopelessly trapped here on earth, joyous
Creatures
Light the candles on the table outside
Apply new paint with brushes and pallet knives,
Mix in the teardrops as you paint with shadows
Drawn in from candles and moonlight hearing
The lonely distant trains sounding out as they
Pass through
Now it is time to tell God what is on
Your mind knowing the paint dries slowly.
God is patient, especially with you.
What will you say,
And will it all be true?

Two

The stars blink once or twice every night
They are busy now, making light
The neighbors try to sleep
The dogs and cats up late
Wondering who will be left when
They leave
Who will count the waves at the sea?
Who will ponder riddles and walk the maze?
Who will carry the world on one’s back?
Make light of darkness and fill outer space?

Frivolity cannot perform the calculations
Nor supercomputers with highest Internet
What is needed is undiminished joy offered
Up in spite of every problem encountered
Outstretched hands dipping water out of the river,
Expecting nothing
Listening to crickets, watching fireflies
Allowing the world to carry itself
Wherever it wants to go

Life
Working between
Intervals
Of rest and play

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