These are heretical poems about God, religion, the Bible and the Christian religion.
When I Was Small, I Grew
by Michael R. Burch
When I was small,
God held me in thrall:
Yes, He was my All
......
I am no ghost, no phantom
And I’ve chosen to be with you.
We go together, bound for life.
Your light may drown me out by day,
But I am always with you
Beyond the blue sky.
When your light recedes,
contained and settled in the moon,
Gentle against the black night,
......
The earth turn'd round—Her atmosphere of light
Like a soft radiance round a sapphire flung
Enclosed her as a garment, whose fair hues
Of many-color'd blended harmony
Trembled, as the swift sun-rays shot along
Through the thin vapours of a calm, still sky.
A spirit folded then his azure wing,
And rested from his lone, adventurous flight,
Where the first sunbeams struck the outmost air
......
Child is the heart of human..
Listen when they speak.
Treat them kindly.
Comfort them when they cry.
Teach them devotedly.
Correct them compossionately.
Love them unconditionally.
Child is the defeat of death.
I was once in thrall to the infamous myth
Of the artiste souffrant,
But I’ve come ultimately to see it
As the cruellest of delusions.
But could it not be said
That it’s still among us,
That malefic notion
That the artist is a spirit set apart
For some special purpose,
Of which pain is an essential component?
......
These are heretical poems about God, religion, the Bible and the Christian religion.
When I Was Small, I Grew
by Michael R. Burch
When I was small,
God held me in thrall:
Yes, He was my All
......
I am no ghost, no phantom
And I’ve chosen to be with you.
We go together, bound for life.
Your light may drown me out by day,
But I am always with you
Beyond the blue sky.
When your light recedes,
contained and settled in the moon,
Gentle against the black night,
......
No shadows in the field, save these two
We stand together, alone,
Our arms entwined
Our shadows merged around our feet
Casting an unused shelter.
We look to the horizon,
Through hedgerows,
Beyond the church
Its spire hosting a choir of blackbirds
......
My will is in your hands
A delicate little handful
The gust within my spirit
You're something spiritual
A million miles from here
Is where we're going to
Somewhere it's crystal clear
Pure light out of the blue
......
beyond the realms of reason
lies a kingdom all our own
further than science reaches
explanation still unknown
from the first feeble light
there followed organic strife
miscellany of cosmic motion
so began this terrestrial life
......