ESPERAR LA LUZ!

Esperar la Luz!
To what prism
do you dedicate your life?

Nubile slave?
Pan's fife??
Subservient
(or subversive) wife?
Bird that escaped
the knife?

Romance language
vs. Teutonic ...
which holds
greater sway
in this politechnic
so rife
with
cacophony
polychrome parade?

Are you prophet or slave?
only two choices now...
co-creator or knave.

A philosopher may
venture opinion
never hard bound
always
elyptic.

I reckon life as
a flash on the edge
of vision
not trapped
in lugubrious
inhibition.

Not a pedantic
bold faced
interpretation
as to mission
or rubric.

Can I insert a quote from
Stanley Kubrick?

I a Teutonic linguist
born and raised
witnessed epiphany
one day
on public transportation.

The admonition
before disembarking
stated "Wait for the light."

Meaning to debark, deplane
without plight.

And then the Latin
beneath
articulated my insight.

For in one
the bold dry tones
of directive ...

In the other
an entirely different
perspective.

Espera La Luz!
Was it prophesy
or warning;
invective?

On our human condition
so silly and defective.

Maria's hands raised
at crucifixion.
Poignant innocent
benediction.

The dark between
dawn and sunrise
before a thousand ships
launch ... strive!
For what?

Stepping off
I stepped onto
the moon.

Like Apollo mission
into sunny afternoon.

I have thought much
on that moment
when stars collided
Teutonic and Romance
In simple
inexorable dance
divided,
and yet, and yet
In strange moment
reunited.

Do we stare into
infinity
with cold clear
intention
with directives
of our own
invention?

Or, do we leap
at the hint
of universal
intervention?

Are both worthy
of contemplation
mentioned here?

Have I rendered us clear?

Perhaps both in proper
time and place each is best
to choose.

Choose
with wisdom
never ending quest.

But for me in this time
ESPERA LA LUZ!
A request
and admonition
honor
your light
and decision.

Poet's note: I am a singer/songwriter and peace activist who has catalyzed an international peace movement for a more tolerant, just, and sustainable world. The poem draws from my plight, and is hopefully a testimony that your soul and creative spirit can rise above the most horrific circumstances, and one can find a sense of grace and epiphany in the most mundane and ordinary experiences even when under impossible duress. There are the circumstances, and then there is the gift of life and choice as to how you respond to the circumstances.