The Recital Of My Heart's Glory
I am bereft of sentiment worthy of mine own wondrous emotion
As my verity, at long last, hath given cause for soul's devotion;
As though predestined, reality meets with my heart's fanciful intuition,
My oft-imagined, life-long somniation hath come to wonderful fruition!
Once, as a child I did glimpse same, yet 'twas fleeting, and I, not prime;
Now, as a man, I bear witness to this grace again-this beauty, sublime!
For every man or monad thought inviolable, there exists impuissance-
Mine hath the form of a dichotomy, as she exudes with pleasance!
Nary doth a moment fleet whence thought is not consumed with such-
Periodically, I must cause remind, lest I should think it all, too much!
All this, yet still, an adjoining hath not been, for years, score-
To muse, whensoever same comes again-all, and evermore!
Hath there ever been such an eminent, empyrean, story?
Lo, there hath been-and it is surely the recital of my heart's glory!
Maurice Harris,1 December 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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