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Charles L. East

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Tyler, TX, US

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The Journey

by

Charles L. East

The winds of autumn have taken thee from thy lofty place
and time has changed thee from thy budding of tender green
to brittle gold with such gentle grace.
Entwined are we in similar state...
having been...and then to go...midst the furrows of time
forgotten,
unremembered,
as if we never were.
I will remember thee,
if thou wilt remember
me.


Folded Wings

by

Charles L. East

No more to touch the splendor of the clouds
or lure the gods of weather to pursuit
between brilliant shafts of light.

No more to launch my soul to heights untread
and with humility behold
the glory of creation's universe.

No more to slip unseen through the unforgiving depths
of a silent and bitter cold sky.

Time had made the final approach
and the gift of age was graying hair
and failing eye.

Yet the heart still

...remembers...

so well,

within my folded wings.


The Seasons

by

Charles L. East

An awakening comes...
A faint movement of life from within
as the Earth turns it's face towards the sun.
A birth of all things new and wondrous
that rise in profusion to color and adorn
their offerings of beauty and glory.
Blessed be the Spring...
for within it's gentle embrace,
I am taught ...
to live.

The manacles of Summer subdue and bow
the mighty to wilting surrender.
As though the anvil of the sun
had struck an oppressive and breathless blow
to render the Earth submissive to it's will.
Blessed be the Summer...
for within it's tenacious grasp,
I am taught...
to endure.

An insidious change marks the air
and rising winds foster subtle persuasion
to shed without restraint,
the fullness of a bounteous yesterday.
To bare its soul without question
to the mighty commands of Fall.
Blessed be the Autumn...
for within it's relentless power,
I am taught ...
to prepare.

The sun at meridian height in all it's strength,
concedes defeat to the icy mantel of the North
whose rampant winds entice all life to blissful sleep.
Blessed be the Winter...
for within it's harsh magnificence,
I am taught...
to die.


The Dawning

by

Charles L. East

I watch the pale light of the rising sun
make known its presence while the moon
retreats in silence with such noble dignity.
The fog drifts slowly to an unknown destination
as dewdrops reluctantly release their moist embrace,
compelled to fade to nothingness.
I feel the wind quicken and hear its voice through a myriad
of leaves as trees gently awaken to its touch.
The beauty of creation unfolds before me,
fresh and clean in its beginning.
The fragrance of the Earth
rises to greet me
and within this sanctuary of peace
only God...knows...
I am here.
I am here
knows I am here.


The Cup

by

Charles L. East



Partake thee not from thy chalice of discontent...
for within its victory...
lies thy defeat.

The taunting specter of bitter recall
comes but to diminish thy soul...
to herald the vale of tears that blurs thy sight,
and causes resolve to fail.

Hence withstand with grace, thy weakened state...
thine defeat is but...
thy doing.


The Power

by

Charles L. East

Hast thou not known the name of thy Champion
nor the place wherein it dwells...
Hast thou not reckoned with adversity to thine own end
and with token effort placed fear behind thee...
Hast thou not seen the looming Face of Death approach
thee but to no avail
and thy wits guard thy composure...
Hast thou not felt the tear that wells within thine eye
beckoned by some tender force
when thine heart is gently touched?
And yet...
An immeasurable strength is summoned
to combat the challenge against thee
when thine hour is at hand...
Hence know...thine champion
is thyself alone...
and its dwelling place...
within thee.


The Image

by

Charles L. East

I softly stepped into the portal of cascading light
which fell upon...a shadow...
that rose, ever rose,
as if a wisp of smoke...and formed a man
that stood as tall as I.
In the quiet, veiled and misty hue...
I beheld his wearied eyes that spoke
of unrealized dreams...long past...
of desires that failed...destined...to never be.
It was as if I could touch his heart...and feel his pain...
so aware of the warmth of tears.
I moved closer... ever closer...
to see whom this might be,
and within breathless, halting reality...
knew then...
the face I beheld...
was me.


The Image

by

Charles L. East

I softly stepped into the portal of cascading light
which fell upon...a shadow...
that rose, ever rose,
as if a wisp of smoke...and formed a man
that stood as tall as I.
In the quiet, veiled and misty hue...
I beheld his wearied eyes that spoke
of unrealized dreams...long past...
of desires that failed...destined...to never be.
It was as if I could touch his heart...and feel his pain...
so aware of the warmth of tears.
I moved closer... ever closer...
to see whom this might be,
and within breathless, halting reality...
knew then...
the face I beheld...
was me.


THEE

by

Charles L. East

Let not deception fault thee into realms of despair
nor words...piercing as arrows...mortally wound thy pride,
I would speak to thee with words of truth.
Therefore, heed them well and engrave them
deeply within thine heart.
For I would say of thee...thou art indeed...
beautiful.
In the immense span of time,thy life is as brief
as a butterfly's dream,
and yet...
within that infinite and fleeting burst of light
there were...none ever...such as thee.
Thou art thyself alone...unmirrored...a singular creation
of a creature and soul that is unique unto itself.
Behold thyself once more...and know...
Thou art indeed...
beautiful.


The Keeping

by

Charles L. East



Unto my keeping
wert thou given me,
that I might love thee
with all my soul
to the end of my days_
and adore thee in the autumn of my years.

I have loved thee beyond life's measure,
beyond the treasures of the earth or sea
or the boundless reaches of the deepening sky.

If the sun should quietly rise
upon a dreaded day_
and thy final sleeping mercifully unburden
the hours from me,
my futile weeping shall only cease
with a last and desperate breath_
and with all my failing strength,

I shall once more
softly whisper,
with love_

thy name.


The Awakening

by

Charles L. East

There comes_
at times_
an insidious awakening
that stirs my soul to memories,
so faint,
intangible,
of past strife and death
_and life_
of glories faded, buried,
as though they never were.

Yet_
I hear the distant drums of war
and the heralding trumpet's muted voices,
and dimly see
a legion of shimmering golden helmets_
their plumes dancing in Sparta's wind.

I feel the blistering sting of cold salt spray
as I behold the failing sun slip quietly
beneath an unforgiving sea.

My life's blood absorbed by the warm sands
of Rome's coliseum_
I am aware
of the fragrance of the Earth
in Flanders field.

There comes_
at times_
an insidious awakening.


The Passing

by

Charles L. East



The hand of time
shall soon close itself about me.
The winds of winter foretell the final days
which demand I step into the brilliant depths of eternity_
powerless to deny it's irresistible command,
that I must now accept repose beneath the silent
earth of the valley.

While reflecting in my quietest moments,
I sometimes ponder the hour of my birth
when I beheld in wonderment_
the fading, twinkling stardust upon my tiny hands,
and then how I followed, with such unfailing resolve and courage,
the burdened path destiny lay before me.
The softly tolling bell proclaims my journey near an end,
at last_ my duty done.

Weep not, nor utter regret,
for I shall touch the stars once more
and with_stardust covered fingers_begin the
journey once again.