In the beginning it must have been
that the Neanderthal
emerged from his cave
early one day
into a cold and ruthless world
and noticed for the first time
sun’s reflection glistening
upon lake tranquility
between twin peaks
of a snow covered summit.
And speechless
as he might have been
for images never seen
he fell to his knees
staring mutely
unable to excise
the swell in his soul
and realized
each morning thereafter
would speak differently.
Michael Keshigian
3 comments:
MICHAEL KESHIGIAN is the author of five poetry chapbooks. His sixth collection Jazz Face , was recently released by Big Table Publishing Co. His poetry has appeared in numerous national and international journals as well as many online publications, including California Quarterly, Barbaric Yawp, Tipton Poetry Journal, Jerry Jazz Musician, Sierra Nevada College Review, and Ibbetson Street Press. He has been a feature writer for The Aurorean, Poetree Magazine, Chantarelle’s Notebook, Bellowing Ark, Pegasus Review, The Illogical Muse, interviewed by Boston Literary Magazine (bostonliterarymagazine.com/Fall2007 Spotlight)) and Reader’s Choice in the Fairfield Review. He is a multiple Pushcart Prize and Best Of The Net nominee. (www.michaelkeshigian.com)
love it!
so glad btw that I found this blog. i can sit for hours just reading all the different poems, get inspired and contemplate about life.
Just beautiful...his words speak for that feeling that my words [and Neanderthal's] can't describe..pure joy...thank you for writing
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