THE POET by KAHLIL GIBRAN
Posted on May 8th, 2008
by 
Samme
Samme
photo taken by Samme S. S.
http://www.gaia.com/blogs/tagged/maia
THE POET
He is the link between this and the coming world.
He is
A pure spring from which all thirsty souls may drink.
He is a tree watered by the River of Beauty, bearing
Fruit which the hungry heart craves;
He is a nightingale, soothing the depressed
Spirit with his beautiful melodies;
He is a white cloud appearing over the horizon,
Ascending and growing until it fills the face of the
sky.
Then it falls on the flowers in the Field of Life,
Opening their petals to admit the light.
He is an angel, sent by the goddess to
Preach the Deity's gospel;
He is a brilliant lamp, unconquered by darkness
And inextinguishable by the wind. It is filled with
Oil by Ishtar of Love, and lighted by Apollon of
Music.
He is a solitary figure, robed in simplicity and
Kindness; He sits upon the lap of Nature to draw his
Inspiration, and stays up in the silence of the night,
Awaiting the descending of the spirit.
He is a sower who sows the seeds of his heart in the
Praries of affection, and humanity reaps the
Harvest for her nourishment.
This is the poet --who asks naught of
Humanity but a smile.
This is the poet--whose spirit ascends and
Fills the firmament with beautiful sayings;
Yet the people deny themselves his radiance.
Until when shall the people remain asleep?
Until when shall they continue to glorify those
Who attained greatness by moments of advantage?
How long shall they ignore those who enable
Them to see the beauty of their spirit,
Symbol of peace and love?
Until when shall human beings honor the dead
And forget the living, who spend their lives
Encircled in misery, and who commune themselves
Like burning candles to illuminate the way
For the ignorant and lead them into the path of light?
Poet, you are the life of this life, and you have
Triumphed over the ages despite their severity.
Poet, you will one day rule the hearts, and
Therefore, your kingdom has no ending.
Poet examine your crown of thorns; you will
Find concealed in it a budding wreath of laurel.
~from The Treasured Writings of Kahlil Gibran
http://www.gaia.com/blogs/tagged/maia
THE POET
He is the link between this and the coming world.
He is
A pure spring from which all thirsty souls may drink.
He is a tree watered by the River of Beauty, bearing
Fruit which the hungry heart craves;
He is a nightingale, soothing the depressed
Spirit with his beautiful melodies;
He is a white cloud appearing over the horizon,
Ascending and growing until it fills the face of the
sky.
Then it falls on the flowers in the Field of Life,
Opening their petals to admit the light.
He is an angel, sent by the goddess to
Preach the Deity's gospel;
He is a brilliant lamp, unconquered by darkness
And inextinguishable by the wind. It is filled with
Oil by Ishtar of Love, and lighted by Apollon of
Music.
He is a solitary figure, robed in simplicity and
Kindness; He sits upon the lap of Nature to draw his
Inspiration, and stays up in the silence of the night,
Awaiting the descending of the spirit.
He is a sower who sows the seeds of his heart in the
Praries of affection, and humanity reaps the
Harvest for her nourishment.
This is the poet --who asks naught of
Humanity but a smile.
This is the poet--whose spirit ascends and
Fills the firmament with beautiful sayings;
Yet the people deny themselves his radiance.
Until when shall the people remain asleep?
Until when shall they continue to glorify those
Who attained greatness by moments of advantage?
How long shall they ignore those who enable
Them to see the beauty of their spirit,
Symbol of peace and love?
Until when shall human beings honor the dead
And forget the living, who spend their lives
Encircled in misery, and who commune themselves
Like burning candles to illuminate the way
For the ignorant and lead them into the path of light?
Poet, you are the life of this life, and you have
Triumphed over the ages despite their severity.
Poet, you will one day rule the hearts, and
Therefore, your kingdom has no ending.
Poet examine your crown of thorns; you will
Find concealed in it a budding wreath of laurel.
~from The Treasured Writings of Kahlil Gibran
Access: PublicTagged with: maia, flowers, Callistemon, bottlebrush, bottle brush, pictures, photos, photography, creativity, canon, Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet, The Treasured Writings of Kahlil Gibran, photographs, photo, my canon creativity, consciousness, writer, poet, author, Lebanese, Lebanon, mystical, poetry, philosopher, literature, prose, Middle Eastern Literature
author
May 2008
love this, crossposting to God Pod!
Love the pic too! What is this beautiful plant called? Is itin your yard?
Blessings ~*~ Susan
Thank you Nicole!
Thank you Susan! I don't know what it's called? Does anybody else know? No, this is not my yard per se but it is outside my place.
thank you friends,
samme
The plant is called a bottle brush.
They are quite popular here in California and is a bush that grows very high.
There is also a tree variety.
Thanks for the lovely post, Samme.
I love you XOXO
Great! Thank you Ladybear for that info. It does look like a bottle brush, bristles. I would say this is the tree variety. love you too Ladybear and thank you thank you.
XOXO
samme