A New Ode

A New Ode

We are the myth makers,
	And we are the see-ers of sights,      
Circling through cosmic acres,
	And gazing celestial lights.
World-lovers and world forsakers,
	With eyes that look up to the heights;
Yet we are the lovers and takers
	Of the gifts given tonight.

With wondering ebullient praise,
We open ancient Musèd gates,
	Nigh upon a peasant’s treasured tale,
	We doth suspend the heart’s inner veil.
A poet who delights to please,
	Will sally forth and joy a soul,
And living songs bespoke by three,
	Can rebuild a town in full.

We, in the pages lying
	Unfurled, proclaim our past by mirth,
Like Jonah, swallowed and dying,
	Or Nimrod and all of his dearth.
Let the prophets who rhyme their crying
	Speak of times gone and times that verge
On the outer strata of our scrying,
	And within the womb of this earth.

A scant breath of inspired verse,
Can fill the bushels o’ thousand serfs,
	Five thousand by divided bread 
	On the faith our Fathers spread.
The King has graced us with his fish,
	A school of swimmers to break the net;
Children born of blood and water’s wish—
	Heaven and earth should now be met.

For we are near and ride the dawning
	Of something new, truly distinct,
Something attentive to the longing,
	Men all know belongs in ink.
Something deep with rumbled calling,
	Chasing down that tomb’d instinct,
Something rising in the falling,
	Boiling, roiling on the brink.

Running among the winter stars,
	Chariots speed nary fear,
And racing wild triumphant of heart,
	Come crashing down into our ears.
Listen quick and hear the songs afar;
	Smolder’d notes of eternal years.
And now at last let us speak who we are:
	Singers of odes across the spheres.

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With tremendous gratitude toNathan Woods, J.Z Schafer, D.A. Bishopand Kevin LaTorre. Whose assistance, counsel and encouragement have been absolutely invaluable.