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rain dance before the deluge of media
What Is The Matter With Matter?
© 2002, by Charles R. Riley
I am searching for words of sense
lost in a treasure trove of embraced books.
The treasure wouldn’t show if in a mirror I took a look.
If the words could pour out, I would give me to you.
Would you notice I meant to be true?
Was there something I wasn’t, when I was?
Tell me what is the matter with what matter does.
You gave us the Big Bang before the world began.
Were you alone in deep silence, compact and unified unlike man?If the rain fell in torrents of unquenchable movement,
would the veil be forever drawn with no hint of content.
Be then what we must. There is nothing as just.
Nowhere is sin less likely to begin than in what we think is a must.
Space Sailing or the Way of the Unknown
This angel should be his.
© Copyright, Charles Riley, July, 2000
This angel should be his.
If I turn to dust,
it is nothing but this.
I bought a rope
to climb a cliff of rust.
When I fell,
the angel wrapped my ankle
in the rope I was to no one tell.
I could give money
but that won’t last.
An angel from eternity
will hold by him fast.
The dust will gladly dance
in music’s feat of purity.
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