Saturday, July 16, 2022

THE FIRST HYMN by R.M. Engelhardt

The first hymn was sung soft & low in reverence to the animals the forests and 
the rivers, waters of the earth. The shaman's mind was enveloped intertwined with the avatars of the deep earth advised of all the things it knew. This created prophecy and transmission as the shaman fell into a trance among the sticks and bones and the fire that brought forth the divine smoke of wisdom channeled like some proto god and embedded into the human soul and brain. Before words, before scriptures & poetry neanderthal mumblings fur bed sleep cave drawings in the dark deep hollow. The first hymn, still within our genetic matrix written upon our souls conjuring our evolution towards love, respect and freedom. Lost in the moments, the tides of time. It must be retrieved, found once more again. Lest we forget that we are also the animals & their souls. The bear, the wolf and the otter. The hawk and the dove. Lest we forget that we are not all separate but connected to the beating heart of this earth forever. Without it the madness persists, the madness dwells without enlightenment.

The missing hymn unsung.




R.M. Engelhardt writes, lives & breathes in Albany, NY. He is the founder of Dead Man's Press Ink (1998), a small indie poetry publishing firm & is the original founder of the literary community group Albany Poets. Over the last 25 or so years his work has appeared in dozens of small press journals, anthologies & zines  worldwide and he is the author of roughly 16 books of poetry, such as " DarkLands" ( 2019 Whiskey City Press) "The Resurrection Waltz "(Infinity Press 2012) & "The Last Cigarette, The Collected Poems of R.M. Engelhardt" (Dead Man's Press Ink 2007) .  He currently hosts the open mic for poets "INVOCATION OF THE MUSE"  At Lark Hall and is also a supporter of experimental & Pagan poetry as well. 
His new book, " Of Spirit, Ash & Bone Poems*Parables" ( Dead Man's Press Ink) comes out and makes it's appearance in 2022.


No comments:

Post a Comment

THE PERFECT PINT By Gregg Norman

Below a trap door behind a scarred bar steep steps descend in darkness where the Guv’nor draws the perfect pint of his brewed-on-site Guines...