Endless God (Double Tetractys As A Cycle Or Mirror Image)
All
things are
fleeting and
evanescent,
only God is eternal, immortal
Immortal, eternal is God only,
evanescent
and fleeting
are things:
all.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Even If Every Yesterday Wants To Fade
Even if every yesterday wants to fade
and I do not know what tomorrow holds
there still is something of our love
that constantly remains with me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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When the sun suddenly stopped
When the sun suddenly stopped
I entered the house,
robbers had just entered and when I tried to flee
they brought me back; time came to a sudden halt.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Just beyond Gordon's Bay
Just beyond Gordon's Bay
where arum-lilies bloom
I had dropped her,
and look with wonder for a moment at nature
but she walked back into my arms again.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Love You Past Reason and Meaning
I love you past reason and meaning
and constantly you climb deeper into my heart
when the days disappear into oblivion
and new seasons start continually.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The morning is cobalt blue (Persian Quatrain)
The morning is cobalt blue
and somewhere in between it is you,
the afternoon is grey with thunderclouds
and we are caught in love, being true or untrue?
poem by Gert Strydom
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Early in the morning to each other the doves do sing (Persian / Rubiyat quatrain)
Early in the morning to each other the doves do sing
and it feels as if something great is happening
on this glorious day,
on this new morning in spring.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Masked Ball (Koan)
Life, the whole of human existence
is sometimes nothing but a big masked ball.
The depth, the deadly silence can at times
catch and trick us as reflexes.
poem by Gert Strydom
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You are the one [2]
You are the one in whose depths I hide
when life at times tries to capture me,
the one to whom I long for many nights
when monotonous the wind moans outside.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Home invasion (englyn milwr) (in answer to Don Mattera)
Armed with small guns they came,
to me looked all the same,
then wanted to know my name.
[Reference: “The Day they came for our house” by Don Mattera.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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