La Purga

The Poet's Corner

By Malcolm Little Black

The elemental hands caress mother nature’s rein,

Behind the spreading chaos booms the ordered symphony,

Slackened ear quickens its erection

Slumbering spark arose for the occasion,

As the season draws near,

La Purga looms..

Cosmic clock is ticking, 

The furies unleashed;

The season brings the harvest,

The Darkness is vanquished.

An Ominous sign envelops the globe,

La Purga shall end the grope.

Purification sound escaping from the flute,

Swan maiden spewing the melodious tone,

The herald of the promised Star,

Harbinger of the Silent Night;

The Groom awaited,

The trumpet sound-Let is rage!

Let it storm!!

Let it quake!!!

Let it rain…!

After the impending deepest night,

Soft La Purga’s voice shall whisper: LET THERE BE LIGHT.

Victory at last,

And leeway in the pan,

A new dawn,

New hope,

A new beginning,

The shackling of the ancient foe;

Mother earth reclaims her virginity,

And the good Sower sows anew,

In love, and in justice;

And the beauty of the Creation,

Echoes the perfection of the Creator.

Before the awaited Resurrection Morn,

La Purga shall rise to admonish and warn.

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