Sons and Daughters of The First Born, poetry by Ginny M. Jones at Spillwords.com
Hudson Hintze

Sons and Daughters of The First Born

Sons and Daughters of The First Born

written by: Ginny M. Jones

 

Sons and daughters of the first born
From original source we were all shorn

Progeny of the brightest stars
All were unwitting avatars

Look out at the world
Into which we were hurled

Flung from the quiver
Each a message to deliver

Now struggle to stand
In this dark hinterland

No longer can we hide
Behind eyes now open wide

The oldest of souls
Living truths will extol

Dropping wisdom of the ages
Like pearls from the sages

They endeavor to bring unto (wo)man
The true vision of the master’s plan

Your so-called truths need some revision
There never was a spiritual division

On shoulders to bare an original sin
No wrong was done by ancestral kin

This world given to us to explore and tame
We were not sent here to swim in shame

This an untruth you were sold
To shackle the beings created so bold

Fret not about the wrongs and rights
We all experience the dark and the light

Whether good or bad not for you to perceive
The fruit has not fallen so far from the tree

On different paths we are set to learn
Another’s lesson is not your concern

If your eye offends you then pluck it out
That decision for others not what you’re about

Judge not as we have long been told
Or henceforth you will be judged ten-fold

With false honor we cry eye for an eye
But this my brethren is yet another lie

The truth was revealed; even babes know
You only will reap that which you will sow

Whether walking in love or in earthly malice
The same you will drink from the golden chalice

Ego untamed that villain of old
In truth this is your pot of gold

Universal conscience the contingency plan
Your individual beauty your ego-(wo)man

Whether wide is the path or narrow the way
Who among us can absolutely say

Undeniable truth for one and for all
It’s pride alone that will cause you to fall

Refusal to seek your truth that’s within
Finds feet that are pathless again and again

These pearls stolen by antiquity thieves
Time to get up now; off your knees

It’s not for you to bow and cower
Earthly presence of the highest power

Sons and daughters of the first born
Original source is that which we mourn

Progeny of the brightest stars
We all are now fallen avatars

Ginny M. Jones

Ginny M. Jones

I have always been a writer, letting my thoughts and emotions spill out on paper where I can express myself in a way I can’t do verbally. Perhaps because some things are too difficult to verbalize. Some things you can’t bear to say out loud. Once they’re given voice they become living extensions of ourselves. So, at a young age, I began to write. I wrote in notebooks and on notebooks. On scraps of paper and abandoned napkins. My mother saw this and bought me a journal for my birthday one year. I remember flipping through those blank pages envisioning my words written on them, thinking that now, finally, I could say some things! I'm still saying some things.
Ginny M. Jones

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