Who Shall I Pray To?

WHO SHALL I PRAY TO?

 

It may be 
that only the Little People have my measure,
know the chances I take, 
jockeying for position on the human stage,
risking all.
It is they who understand. 
they have been here before me
and sympathise. 

Now, safe in their elven homes,
reflecting,
they take the long view,
the wise one, 
nodding,
in turn, sympathetic, then disdainful,
smugly disengaged.

For that is their destiny as gods,
to judge, 
to pronounce on the frail and the headstrong;
to be prayed to by feeble humankind, 
free to accept our pitiful offerings. 
free also
to ignore our pleas for redemption. 

Who else do I pray to
when history’s gods fail me? 
Only Solas listens, 
hears,
but his replies I fail to understand, 
and, rudderless, 
am, as ever, left
to choose my own path
in this unstable world.

I DiD, I DiD, I DiD – An Affirmation

Manhole cover – Surrey, England:  Photo WHB – 2020   ©

Did I do it?
I did not
No, I didn’t do it, Dear,
Did I?

Well, OK, what if I did?
What if I did it?
If I’d really done it
I’d say I did
Wouldn’t I Dear?
I’d say
I DiD, I DiD,
Yes, I DiD, I Did.

I think you think
I did do it, Dear.
Don’t you, Dear?
Don’t say you don’t
‘Cos you know that I did.
I always do, don’t I Dearest?

But Did I do it?
Well, if I did it
Then I did it, didn’t I?
So… Consider it done
Well and truly done
Done to death
Done and Dusted, Dear,
Done in, Done down,
Easier Said than Done.
I’ve been Done
She’s been Done
You’ve been Done.

Didn’t I do well to do it, Dear?
But really,
No!
No, I did not!
‘I did not have sexual relations with that woman!’

Oh, well, if you insist,
yes, Maybe, I did do it.
Yes, Perhaps I did, Dear.
At least I think I did it.
I told myself
Not to do it,
But I DiD, I Did, I DiD …

Don’t say you don’t believe me, Dearest.

 

 

Thursday – ‘Loved And Lost’

Photo by Rakicevic Nenad on Pexels.com

An aphorism for each day, keeps the doctor away. Each day this week I am offering a common aphorism, just slightly embellished – for good or ill.

 

 

‘Tis better to have loved and lost

Than never to have loved at all;

Believe that if you will, my dears,

For me, I try to tell myself,

Better that I count the cost

Of all those ties which brought me tears.

 

 

Reverie #2: Magic

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Magic is the catalyst for change 
It stirs the open mind
Bringing meaning to Mystery
Blessings to Belief

And when the cauldron of mist is stirred
Then both the Gloom 
And the Glitter are captured
Restrained
Resuscitated  
Then allowed to flourish

To become hope for the future
Of the world’s Sorcery
The creation of a new reality
The super and the supra-natural essence
Of what has been
The foundation of what will yet be
Channeling the birthright of an abiding
And more fulfilling Necromancy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Borderlands of POETRY – 5

PART THE FIFTH

 

Photo by John-Mark Smith on Pexels.com

Poetry As Religion

 

Poetry has become my religion
My faith lies in belief
Belief that my words convey my feelings
Express my thoughts
In a way that my actions are unable to do
And while I write
While I construct my idolatrous icons
I am worshipping at the altar of my muse
And offering penance for my frailties.

 

Churchyard Blues– Five HAIKU

Haworth Churchyard, Yorkshire.  The Brontes are buried in a vault inside the church , except Anne who was buried at Scarborough.   Pen & Ink Sketch – WHB, 1983    ©

 

 

ACCEPTANCE:

Cradle of their births,
Shrouds for their future demise;
A place to belong. 

  

BELIEF:

To those with belief
Death does not come as an end;
With faith no one dies.

 

 HOPE:

Stay, hear, be silent;
Listen to the song thrush bring
Hope to the living

 

OPTIMISM:

Know, amongst these stones,
That life always precedes death;
Make the most of it.

 

 DOUBT:

If only God’s faith
Would strike my doubt ridden soul
I would die content.

Aysgarth Churchyard, Yorkshire – Pen & Ink Sketch – WHB, 1981   ©