From the American Poetry Anthology Book, Volume VII, Number 4, 1987, pg. 357

A Poem by Sharon Eby

Written in a 45 minute time period, at age 15, in an inspired moment, while absorbing energy from a drastic thunderstorm that rumbled overhead... an example of the ability to pull low vibrational energy from deep places & the forces of nature.  It was not the lightning, nor the rain, as much as it was the heavy overcast black clouds and rolling thunder which were felt deep within... and through me, put its energy into the pen and onto the paper.

SMOG
(not the original title, but the published one)

 

Quest of Fire in the darkness, of the shadows gone through time

The grains of sand are running out, and dust is stirred on ancient wine

The eye of knowing as the wind, is now as blowing on the rim

Of time, of sorrow, can withold, the birds' wings flutter bold

 

Showing shyness as a moonbow, raindrops falling in the light

Clouds are forming dreary mountains, sad and lonely tears of fright

As never wanting babbling brooks, therein dark ages ancient books

As solemn wonders, yours or mine, to start and stop as time

 

Seeing shieldless monsters glowing, evil eyes with blackness 'round

Castles tall and peaks are piercing, captured ones with chains are bound

The empty lost field in the sun, confusion light with mental stun

The falling, scraping, of yourself, it seems it's life itself

 

Red clay mine pits sinking lower, swallowing the precious herbs

Mean stares from it killing nature, and the breathing it disturbs

Beyond the limits, dying off, it chokes and wheezes, tearing off

The tantalizing, messy bog, it's clear and deep as fog

 

 

 

Articles 2 Page

 

(c) Sharon (Eby) Cornet 2011