Day 57

The Second Renaissance

Day 57. Tuesday 12th June 2018

I am joined again today by my very special guest poet, Alia Mirdita, at seven years old a poetic star of the future. See her poem below.

The Second Renaissance.

© 2018 Steve Cook

Do you remember the Renaissance?

Maybe you were there

But have long since forgotten,

As time and rebirth

Moved quickly on.

For sure, they have borne you,

Like a torrent restless in its essence,

To new adventures,

Pausing only long enough

To contemplate new mischief

For our species that navigates

The centuries rudderless

And without a compass.

But whether you lived it or

Read it in a book or

Heard about it in passing,

When you look at the truth of it,

Nobody in it knew it while

It was happening.

Only with hindsight did history

Record its fame,

The fanning of the flames of creation,

The flowering of art that bears its name.

But look where it led us, once started,

Behold what followed in its train.

Civilisation was born again.

Art became the midwife

Of myriad new ideas,

Kindled the spark that woke science

From its superstitious slumber,

Freed thought from its orthodox cocoon

So that it grew wings and flew

In and out of trouble.

Thus we arrived at our

Present time of marvels,

Where miracles are taken for granted

And prodigious advances

Are so commonplace

They pass unremarked.

But look again!

For a Second Renaissance is upon us!

It has already started.

Arts in old and new forms are

Evolving in profusion,

In partnership with science,

In alliance with man's undying dream

Of dreams come alive to quicken

The dead matter of dying suns,

Or enliven the drab humdrum

Of existence with th'audacious

Brush strokes of imagination

And artists in unprecedented

Numbers are stoking the beacon

Of creation.

We're in the Second Renaissance,

Living in it, if we could but

Waken to see it,

So up-close and personal

Nobody's noticed.

And somewhere up ahead,

The future promises to remember us

For that accomplishment.

Just as marvels unimaginable

Were birthed by the midwifery of

The First, The Second we are

Living now bodes well for

The shape of things to come.

Man is about to be reborn once more.


© 2018 Alia Mirdita

The very next day

Is the start of May.

It is raining outside

So I go on a train ride.

I get a pet turtle

Whose name is Fred.

He has a little brother called Ed.

I go to the farm

And play in the hay.

Then I heard a horse say "neigh"!

I go to bed and

I go to sleep

And now I'm sad.