At Peace

At Peace

A Poem by Christopher Michael Smith

The soul's grown weary,

Taking note of it all,

Wisdom with age,

Mental growing pains.

Synapses stretching,

Reaching for the stars,

Collecting stray particles, 

Mending holes in the heart.

Accepting the journey,

Each step closer still,

Elevated perspective,

Thoughts pulsing outward, 

Energetic hum.

Dissecting molecules,

Inspecting their art,

Pondering existence,

Through atomic spark.

Protons & electrons,

Negative & good,

Polar existence,

Equating our world.

The dance of the majestic,

Swaying fragments to and fro,

Delivering the essence,

Animated black hole.

Minute explosions,

Chaos in the simplest of things,

Galactic supernovas,

Mirroring the building blocks of its being.

Conscious creatures,

Thoughts creating the echoes,

From the ether,

From dreams.....

Constructing materials,

From atoms to things,

Such intelligence a gift,

Wasted on human fiends.

Meandering through the traffic cones,

Weaving patterns braided in dimensions,

Slinging energy in all different directions,

No true path here from birth to bones.

Walking the steps of life in daydreams,

Inspiring mantras chanting on their own,

I just listen to their musings,

Scripting what syllables I can recall.

Angelic feathers silently fall,

Transparently they land on the toes of us all,

Systematically blind to their existence,

Programmed fate of materialistic law.

Harmonies unheard here,

Heavens gate corroded now,

Rusted chains hold together their bars,

Spirituality lost in the void between the stars.

Whispers of syllables,

Hymns of mythical truths,

Hidden beneath shrouds of brick and stone,

Secrets held tight from oath to bone.

Stingy occultists wanting nothing but it all,

Praying to shadows in order to gain their agendas & laws,

Never brushing shoulders with these people,

Mingle not with the lower rung.

Equality is the frequency we here are given,

Still judgments continuously befall,

Each path is truly different,

Perception is the light of it all.

Narrow minded,

Near sighted,

Folly dieted,

Dim lighted...

Collective suicide of a mass downfall.

Eating away ourselves with poisons,

Devouring the will to love all,

Wishing for lives instead of living for life.

Narrow minded,

Near sighted,

Folly dieted,

Dim lighted....

Crystals of insight,

Dispersing colors through the twilight,

Blues, reds, yellows & greens,

Painting the walls with fantasies and dreams.

Thoughts create reality,

Be careful what you think,

Thoughts broadcasting like beacons,

Attracting energies across all four seasons.

From bones to dust,

From metals to rust,

From flesh to bone,

From death to home.

Material to ether.

Germ to fever.

Sing to song.

Growing to grown.

Walking dead people,

Lost in their own homes,

Sooner or later,

The reaper shall call.

Dancing devils in shadows still,

Heavenly answers in prayers fulfilled,

Step after step making our way,

From birth to bones,

Creating to decay.

© 2013 Christopher Michael Smith

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Added on June 15, 2013
Last Updated on June 15, 2013


Christopher Michael Smith
Christopher Michael Smith

Clinton, NC

Ego sum qui sum - 'I am what I am' Poetry is my creative expression here upon this floating ball of dust called Earth. Nothing feels as appeasing as watching a pen glide across a virgin page, watc.. more..