My Poem ‘The Whispering Gallery’

Every Sunday,
bang on 10 o’clock in the morning,
the bells of St. Martin’s church
ring-out loud and far –
and every Sunday,
when I am standing and listening
in the most perfect spot
that can be found in all the city,
over time I have discovered
an amazing phenomenon…
just as every whispering gallery
that can be found in places
that are often places of silence
and peaceful serenity,
if you whisper a wish into the air,
and it is carried away on the wind
in the right direction,
then that same wish will come true one day
after having been delivered directly to heaven
by the wings of a listening angel –
and that almost silent prayer
will echo and create epic waves,
like an ocean being skipped upon by a stone,
and you will have been blessed –
even though the evidence of what has taken place
and by whom may have already disappeared without a trace.

The bells of St. Martin’s church ring for almost an hour –
the are a source of hope for many, and they have a power.
Church bells, to me, have always had a solemn beauty to them;
church bells are like the accent of a place of worship’s voice,
and I think they are wonderfully important;
church bells have a way of drawing people to them like a beacon;
you have never felt such a feeling like that
of being as close as you can be
to the breathtaking vibrations of sound
that are produced when ancient bells are ringing
and hammers are hitting their mark in a bell-tower.

The world is one big whispering-gallery;
the Earth has places on it
where the magical can be conjured into being
with the flick of a magic-wand
disguised as an ink-pen;
some people want something so much
but they are afraid to ask for help from anybody –
sometimes things can only be heard
when they are said in the first where
and at the right when…
so, I encourage anybody who feels something special
when they are somewhere,
even if that place may not look anywhere
that may be at all “somewhere to write home about”
to let their inner-most thoughts and wishes
be set free into the atmosphere
of the worlds biggest whispering gallery.

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My Poem ‘Where art endows’

As soon as I boarded the train to London;
as soon as I set foot on the bustling platform
at Euston Station;
as soon as I rode the tube to Bakers Street;
as soon as I looked down at the wet pavement
shining under the shadow of a statue
dedicated to ‘The Great Detective’,
I saw art in everything above me,
everything around me,
and everything underneath my feet,
and the art that I saw left me breathless
because it was so epic.

When I was a child,
I used to look at the cover of The Beatles’ album
‘Abbey Road’ and imagine that I was John Lennon –
dressed all in white, and the one to lead
Ringo, Paul, and George over the crossing
to the other side of the road;
and, while in London, I decided
to follow in the footsteps
of the greatest band that ever was
and go to ‘Abbey Road’,
walk over the famous zebra-crossing –
and I swear that while I was there
I felt incredibly emotional
and so privileged to be there,
and I absolutely felt an abundance of love:
because even though I was walking across by myself,
I didn’t for a second feel alone.

The London Underground is like a warren of rabbits,
a hill of ants, or a hive of bees –
there is so much activity,
and there are so many people
traveling from place to place all over the city,
and everybody is in such a rush;
if you are a daily commuter,
keeping calm and knowing where you are going is a must.
Traveling on the tube is exciting –
everything and everybody I saw
were different from each other,
and to me wonderfully inspiring:
my fellow commuters fascinated me –
all the conversations that I heard,
and all the faces that I saw looking back at me,
were like feeling the pulse of the city,
and it was like the people were the blood
and the plasma of London
traveling down tube tunnels
that made me think of a human bodies
blood-vessels and arteries.

When I first arrived at Trafalgar Square,
and I looked up at Nelson’s Column
towering above two giant statues of Lions
that were the size of two large cars,
as soon as I saw the sight
of the beautiful National Portrait Gallery,
I could literally see hundreds of people outside –
and each person looked to me
like the peaks and waves of a multicolored sea.

While in the National Portrait Gallery,
I found myself completely in-awe
at the beautiful artwork within
which can be found through every open door,
and when I stood in front of Vincent Van Gogh’s
“Sunflowers” painting I was completely entranced
by its magnificence – and every second that I spent
gazing at Van Gogh’s masterpiece of art,
I felt connected to it, and to Vincent Van Gogh
so deeply and profoundly, that I am still engulfed
in the power and the feeling that comes
when you touch something that is
the source of so much inspiration and energy.

From the gallery, I then searched,
and caught a train to Soho,
and eventually came across a wall
that had a piece of art painted on it
by the graffiti artist “Banksy” –
and as soon as I looked at the amazing
piece of modern, incredible,
thought-provoking art that symbolized,
at least to me, the creation of beauty
through self-expression,
in the form of the painted outline of a yellow flower,
I was reminded of another incredible artist
that I had seen earlier,
and the day at that moment came full-circle,
and I knew that everything was connected,
and the world was, and is, a gallery of artistic destiny.

On my way home from London,
I mused and I could not stop thinking
about what I had seen and what I had heard,
and what I had felt during the time
that I had been drawn
from one side of the city to the other,
and I wondered what it all meant.
As I sit here now,
I know, as I have always known and believed,
that things in life do not happen by accident:
I know that the world and I
are connected in ways
that no one else but me will ever know.
In this world there are places with many people
living and working in them
that are fountains of inspiration on so many levels,
and every day I see sources of energy that inspire me –
and that is why I return to certain places time after time,
because these sources and places are exquisite art
that will forever continue to endow me and everybody.

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