Lord of Worlds

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  • Religion

    Lord of Worlds

    Allah is One, perfect
    And yet they always ask:
    "Why did the God not grant us perfection?"
    "If it be perfect and creator?"
    "How did it decide...?"
    "To let us die a death, or primal stars collide?"
    "Why do babies cry?"
    For how could we press on?
    With the knowledge that we will suffer still
    Starving, sick, diseased and bleeding
    Avalanches falling, crush the unsuspecting
    Animals are slaughtered, eaten and betrayed
    For all of the support they gave

    We face the ancient stone of sadness
    In mortality, our filthiness
    And only One to make us pure
    One to give us sustenance
    Why would such a One
    Not grant us of perfection 
    In experience and action?
    In existence and perception?
    Through every earthly passing second? 

    From One came everything
    Every facet and dimension
    Expansion and contraction
    Unity and faction

    Had we been granted everything
    The keys to every opening
    Closeness to the only thing
    That separates dualities
    Never knowing suffering
    All recovery, uncovering

    We would then be limitless
    As singular and infinite
    Without protector, or need thereof
    As perfect and as powerful 
    As one, alone, impossible
    Where would such sublime creations rest?
    At what station of which process?
    Where in time? Without
    Slipping all together, merging into one
    Joining in existence, into the original
    Into one, in principle
    All things equal and returning
    We would be as one
    With nothing else remaining
    With ultimately nothing else
    Yet here we are, created.

    Only One of anything
    Is truly only one
    Only One truly "only One"
    Almighty, single, indivisible
    An only individual
    Powerful, Compassionate and Merciful.

















































     

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    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

    AdelKernan’s Poems (25)

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