A Poem from 1972 Foretold The Present

White and Red Wine in Stemless Glasses with Slate Background

Monastic Meter




So Slowly

That souls

Become holy

By dipping their fingers in wine.






Sets up

A defiance

So that my own thoughts are not mine.



Then the



When singing

The soul’s woe

For all of the feelings aren’t fine.



What does



If former’s

Not latter

As long as we’re able to dine?

About cdsmiller17

I am an Astrologer who also writes about world events. My first eBook "At This Point in Time" is available through most on-line book stores. I have now serialized my second book "The Star of Bethlehem" here. And I am experimenting with birth and death charts. If you wish to contact me, or request a birth chart, send an email to cdsmiller17@gmail.com. (And, in case you are also interested, I have an extensive list of celebrity birth and death details if you wish to 'confirm' what you suspect may be a past-life experience of yours.) Bless.
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1 Response to A Poem from 1972 Foretold The Present

  1. cdsmiller17 says:

    I hadn’t realized that “Monastic Meter” is similar to the opening song in the opera “Faust”.

    “Red or white liquor,
    Coarse or fine!
    What can it matter,
    So we have wine?”

    Liked by 1 person

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