NOBLEMAN CREED

Hold on, my soul friend.
Let Patience lay her hands on you.
Let Love heal the big fractures
that has made your heart broken
and heavier than what God made.
Let your wounds find refuge in courage
till they become thinned crevices
that eventually metamorphose
into fine, white scars - beautified
by time and good faith.

Be still, ye sea of tossed stars.
The Sun shall soon find your land,
The seas shall soon wet your void.
The times shall soon chant your feats
and the Holy High shall cleanse your sins
Be at rest, ye tempted comrades
from smokeless fires and spineless fears
For life is finite and mad

The stormy squalls have raged for too long
Even winter must surrender spring.
Be at one, my shackled celestial,
The wingless shall soon be king.

Pat Ashinze,
Isle of Isles, 2017



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