Double Compensation
Just how much worse this fallen world would be
without the sound of birds and music here!
Those beauteous songs and symphonies for free
full compensate for malice on this sphere.
It pains me that birds fly off as I walk
among them, as if I would do them harm.
Despite the fact with love to them I talk,
they scatter with the sounds of their alarm.
But that is just their nature to survive
for many predators seek their demise.
I do what’s best to keep them all alive
so that their song in this land never dies.
It’s proved their songs bring goodness to the soul.
So aiding them is both my role and goal.
The End of the Folly of Man
Sonnet 1:
The sky looks down on the folly of Man
(“Man” includes wimmin too; it’s generic!)
whether 9/11 or Afghanistan,
or all wars, or a perverted cleric.
Yet it still glows blue, and clouds still cavort;
no continuous darkness from on high.
A forest in which a battle’s been fought
stays green and grows where the bodies still lie.
For all nature has witnessed Man’s folly,
yet it still blooms and blossoms despite all.
Birds and bees don’t display melancholy.
It seems that nothing does nature appall.
The whole creation must secretly groan,
waiting for folly to be overthrown.
Sonnet 2:
The time will come when nature won’t hold back
and mayhem will be thoroughly unloosed.
That signals that the Endtimes are on track
and that judgement will then be introduced.
So wars and rumours of wars will increase;
erupting volcanoes, famines, and floods,
earthquakes, pandemics, annulment of peace —
one fearful sight after another thuds.
Tectonic plates together will engage,
while long-held magma spurtles through a spout.
All the above are birth-pains of the age
that’s still to come. This one will be wiped out.
So finally, nature will mankind thwart.
Man’s folly to an end will then be brought.
Seduced by Flesh
How easily we are seduced by flesh!
By which I mean the ‘stuff’ that we can see.
Unless we learn to scan all that afresh,
so limited in breadth of view we’ll be.
We slide our knees under the tabletop
of physicality, imagining
materiality (earth’s own pawnshop)
is comfort for the human mind to cling.
But all we see is just a thin veneer
which, if viewed through a mighty microscope,
reveals to us our body’s biosphere
is just electron clouds through which we grope.
Imagine if beyond those clouds we saw;
would we recover from the sense of awe?
A Vow Before my King
Distractions in this world are multiform,
and beckoning with their magnetic lure.
Just like Medusa’s heads round me they storm;
so I determined I must find the cure.
I then discovered how to dodge the trap
of mediocrity in what we do
and say and think, to bypass all the crap
which self-interest boils down to revenue.
So I have made a vow before my King:
that all my morals tally with my art.
Thus only what is upright must I bring,
and only what enriches must I start.
I took my sword and sliced those heads away
and always will, with strength in love, I pray.
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[If you would like to obtain a copy of “Arcadian Streams”, which contains 330 of my sonnets
in 187 pages, just send a message to diakrisis-project@outlook.com and I will tell you how].
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© Copyright, Alan Morrison, 2026
[The copyright on my works is merely to protect them from any wanton plagiarism which could result in undesirable changes (as has actually happened!). Readers are free to reproduce my work, so long as it is in the same format and with the exact same content and its origin is acknowledged]
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