deepundergroundpoetry.com

Tales of the Tavern

From the tavern I heard the cry      
Fill the cups with grape      
From heavens eye      
The soul that drinks will never die.      
       
I heard a voice proclaiming      
The tavern shelves are nude -      
Where will we find the Master      
When our soul cries for her food?      
       
The cupbearer has thrown open the tavern doors      
And invited everyone to quaff      
However; few are the thirsty tipplers      
Along the caravans narrow path.      
       
Few are the drinkers      
In the tavern tonight      
For few know the value      
Of the cupbearers light.      
       
To drink the grape      
From the cupbearers vine      
Is to be intoxicated forever      
With His wine divine.      
       
The eyes of the cupbearer        
Twinkle and shine      
As He offers the tipplers      
Beakers of wine.      
       
The tavern was full of tipplers this evening      
However; only a few      
Entered with empty glasses      
To be filled by the cupbearer.      
       
Most revelers entered the tavern      
With glasses full.      
Therefore; received no intoxication      
From the cupbearers sparkling wine.      
       
I entered the tavern this evening      
With high hopes of filling my cup      
From the eyes of the cupbearer      
With a draft of His vintage wine -      
       
However -      
       
As my mind was racing      
Hither and yon      
The cupbearer      
Did not appear -      
       
And alas -      
       
I left the tavern      
With an empty cup.      
       
******      
       
The tavern was crowded tonight      
For the cupbearers love overflowed      
Into the goblets around Him      
As His nimbus of light gleamed and glowed.      
       
******      
       
The caravan slowly moved forward      
Across the desert of time      
Seeking the taverns oasis      
Where the cup-bearer's pouring wine.      
     
******      
       
Drink the flagon of eternal youth      
Before life's cup runs dry      
And the cupbearer pours no more      
Your crown to glorify.      
     
******    
     
In the tavern this afternoon, although unseen    
The cup bearer's presents was felt    
In the blissful intoxication    
Of the tipplers.    
     
******    
   
In the eyes of the cupbearer    
The tavern is precious    
And insignificant    
All at the same time.    
   
What is significant    
Is the sparkling brew    
Poured out by the cupbearer -    
Just one sip lasts forever.    
   
Rain pelted the tavern  
Sky was misty grey  
The goblet was empty, sere  
The cupbearer was away.  
   
Each morning at 3:00 AM  
The cupbearer knocks at your door  
To fill your cup with sparkling wine  
From His inexhaustible store.  
   
In the tavern behind the bar  
Hangs a mirror grand  
Reflecting all dimensions  
Created by the cupbearers hand.  
   
The cupbearer stocked the tavern  
From God's abundant store  
Awaiting topers to drink their fill  
The vintage wine of yore.  
   
I saw reflected in the flask  
The love of the cupbearers eyes  
Co mingling with the sparkling wine  
A crown to deify.  
   
In a cave
At the top of a high mountain
I found the cupbearer
Creating His ravishing wine.

I begged the cupbearer
To pour out His intoxicating wine
To all the parched tipplers
Thirsting at the base of the mountain.

Finished
     
     
       
       
 
Written by BruceBurkard
Published | Edited 13th Aug 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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