Poem I wrote "The Sky is Aflame"

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Hey, this is a poem I wrote while grinding through some pain about a month ago, January 4 2019. My sense of self worth, ability to feel meaning and grave depression was a result, triggered in mid November and running through to the end of December. I was entirely obliterated.

Only way I survived was buying a plane ticket and just getting out of Canada, I moved to the tropics, Caribbean… that sort of stark environmental change from super-freezing-cold to super-sunny-hot was a highly contributing therapeutic crutch to survive.

I wrote one poem around December 26, which was short and about the sun, and a recurring line in it is echoed in this but this one is much longer and last night, I read this aloud in a public setting at a literary event with some international poets and authors opening and closing the event. So my reading was from the MC requesting audience participation and contribution. I volunteered first and got warm greetings and kudos from all the pros, which was nice. A photo of my own is at the end.

The Sky is Aflame

The sky is aflame, attention is caught,
Eyes by gold transfixed, my gaze has been bought.
The descending glow, in heavens was wrought.
No words need uttered, hold image in thought,
Yes the glow descends, and soon will be naught,
Energy fed Earth, which chlorophyll sought.

.

Now Greater Light set, now darkness seeming,
Yet image remains, mem’ry for dreaming,
Sun’s fire aurum, on-going streaming.
As Sun shining bright, elsewhere is beaming,
The mind’s inner sight, finds onyx gleaming,
A soul is humbled, needs true redeeming.

.

Eyes by gold transfixed, may be vanity,
The descending glow, inhumanity,
No words need uttered, what insanity.
Yet Sun shining bright, elsewhere brings sanity,
An image remains, pure humanity,
Faith Hope Love and Truth, conquers enmity.

.

What of the onyx, a metaphor coarse,
Black fine gemstone, self-deception source,
In the soul’s dark night, wrench it free with force.
Spin the horizon, a half circle course,
Cast it to the air, the sun’s soon concourse,
For it soon returns, blinding white war horse.

.

The sky is aflame, illuminating,
In ascending glow, I’m ruminating,
Self-deception was, hallucinating.
Greater Light risen, rejuvenating,
Words need be uttered, communicating,
Faith Hope Love and Truth, enumerating.

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Thank you for sharing. Because the lines/stanzas ratio is equal, I found myself reading the corresponding stanza’s rhymes across the whole structure as one stanza. Seems sensible still.

Caught seeming vanity course illuminating,
Bought dreaming inhumanity source ruminating,
Wrought streaming insanity source hallucinating,
Thought beaming sanity force rejuvenating,
Naught gleaming humanity concourse communicating,
Sought redeeming enmity war horse enumerating.

And after all of our hallucinations are gone, do we finally see the blind spot in our retina?

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I’d like to say we could see clearly. But perhaps not. I’m still struggling with the source of the original pain, every day, and hourly at that, and my attitude is affected.
There is definitely more clarity when looking objectively, and I like the simple metaphor of the sun, for openness, dialog, connection and communication. Although, it might shed awareness on problems I don’t want to see, if I see the problem, I would put an effort into fixing it. So.

The inner sight might be cloudy even if the physical outer vision is sunny and clear. Hmm.