First Cause Of Motion

Poem By Sharon L. Petek

All that exists in Time of Space
Is as real or unreal as you think;
For the Unmoved Mover does not waste,
Divine Energy hurled towards the brink.

Where earthquakes tremble and waters range,
Or Men die a conscious death;
The Unmoved Mover does not change
One motion, one word, nor a breath.

Man scurries hither to and from,
Succumbing daily to fear and pain.
The Unmoved Mover does not come
For either a loss or a gain.

Impartial, from within us deep,
There is no judgement, guilt or blame;
The Unmoved Mover we ignore, yet keep,
Silently observes the Play of Life's Game.

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Other poems of SHARON L. PETEK

The Bridge Of Souls

Of its three colors, the middle is red.
Being Fire, it consumes any unwary soul,
Daring to venture to Valhalla.

Silver Threads

The fall of snow glistens in white
Like silver threads in a tapestry;
It weaves a winter's tale of old,
With it's silent imagery.