The Noble Path - by Crispin Sandford

This is another wonderful poem of Crispin's.

The Noble Path

We call upon you to fulfill your dream, the promise within you we your brothers have seen. We call upon your vigor strength and virtue, to enflame that purpose within you.

We have seen your gains and pleasures in winning and pursuing other endeavors and so seeing have wept, for too long has this promise waited to be kept; and you enjoy ANY kind of happiness too much.

We do not and indeed cannot push with the same weight and authority as your own virtue and integrity, but we do remind you such wonderful happiness awaits you, and we remind you, you’ve greater things to do and such glorious things why wouldn’t you, follow the noble path you have before you.

Crispin H. Sandford

The Noble Path Copyright 2004 Crispin H. Sandford. All Rights Reserved. Printed by the Parley Press in the USA.

A Poem by Crispin Sandford

Thanks to Crispin for allowing me to reproduce this absolutely splendid poem here.  The circumstances of its creation occurred one late summer afternoon as he was taking a stroll through the countriside on a perfect day, one of those days that takes your breath away in its perfection.  As he walked along, revelling in the beauty of the crystalline sky, the feel of the ground beneath his feet, the rich scents of earth and flowers and greenery on the air, and the sights of the verdent flora, he gradually "heard" music inside his mind - an opera - the most beautiful, indescribable music he'd ever heard and he seemed to be transported to another level of existence, a sort of super-awareness and consciousness. Was it the Music of the Spheres that he was somehow attuned to for those moments and "heard" in its awesome majesty and beauty?  To me, this is an achingly beautiful paeon to the Goddess:

Bravo

When she sings, all my worldly

concerns evaporate, dissipate, crumble and

degenerate into petty foibles that now are gone.

No more is my attention hell-bent

against them, fueling and enflaming them

with fury.

All that matters is that I hear the

truth she sings, and how she sings it; the

subtleties that her heart and attention

reveal - how she frames it, how I taste it -

the intricacies that now seem as real and

deadly as tempered steel in the hands of a warrior king.

Oh such piercing blows. Oh such

devastating blows. Yet, they are from

wisdom’s armory, and hit upon one with

the delicacy of a summer breeze. Yet, they

do sting, oh how they sting.

And I, upon my knees can only weep:

bravo, bravo.

Crispin H. Sandford

Bravo Copyright 2004 Crispin H. Sandford. All Rights Reserved. Printed by the Parley Press in the U.S.A.