When the morning sun
Burns through the dusk
Of the night’s demise
And at last
The backside of the night
Is breached
A new day is born
And morning introduces its prospects
Promising a fresh start
A renewal of hope
Countermanding
Yesterday’s disappointments
And the night’s terrors
Now bringing a sense of peace
A stillness
Allowing strength to gather
And defy the uncertainties
Of a new day.
The DARK and the LIGHT
Wintertime
today
I found myself
following a blind man
with a stick
this morning
in the shopping mall
he bumped into a white fence
surrounding a display
He stumbled
muttering to me
as I asked if I could help
“I can see a black line
but I can’t see a white fence
why do they
make these fences white?”
A blind man
fearing white
desiring the dark
Wintertime
snowtime
and out in the fields
if it is not white
it is black
silhouettes are for the winter
as well as the twilight
black against the white
darkness loses silhouettes
As the snow settled
I wondered
could I see white
or could I see only the black
the black giving definition
white reduced
to filling the spaces in between
not colourless
devoid of colour
contrast emphasised
no subtlety
but strength
black has become the positive
black bringing context
and meaning
against the white backdrop
As with the blind man
it is possible
for the darkness
of winter
to bring
conviction
certitude
and hope.
The crisp crunch of my footsteps as I crossed that frosty field
Confirmed to me the joy that winter brings;
The frail but wondrous sunlight burning through the morning mist
Affirmed a world of wonder in all things.
It brought to me a memory of those long days of my youth,
When all was young and all life was tomorrow,
When time and love and right and wrong were not things I considered,
Just the lasting joy which Nature can bestow.
Tomorrow was a world away from the life that I live now;
No anguish that my world might cease to be
Before I’d felt and savoured all that life can have to offer,
Before the sun sets on that ancient tree.
Despite my knowledge of the pain that’s in the world around me,
Bleak Nature seeks to calm its shifting shadows,
The seasons, sun, the starlight, still remain to bring us hope,
That vital spark from which renewed life flows.
TIME’S HOLD
You are what might have been
on that alternative path,
my abandoned way re-discovered.
But what is now is salient;
you make me an offer,
propose to me a future
that will not arise
unless hope turns to reality
before Time tires.
When life was fast dissolving,
when my world
was being wrenched apart,
then, supporting your own cross,
you came from nowhere
to reach out, to connect,
to take my hope
and cherish it.
What I am left with
is no longer despair,
but the veiled thrill
of tomorrow’s augury.
You could resolve my need,
bring me that accord,
of touch, of feel, of senses,
of minds in tune.
What you do – for me, now,
is to engender lust,
that lust of my youth,
for life, for certitude,
which can repel my languor,
now sequestered by age,
and bring a new intensity,
revivify that spark
which once embellished all.
No longer my past innocence,
but a considered offering,
a last grasp at time’s hold on me.
Depressed and defeated,
My world’s at an end.
Its simpler to die
Than life’s troubles to mend.
I sit here alone,
My future in tatters.
No one will help.
To them no one else matters.
Men’s struggle for power
Has brought me to this.
Their pride and their greed,
That’s what’s amiss.
The end will come quickly.
My future is bleak.
No reason to hope.
It’s the fate of the weak.
[ Previously published on this blog in September 2016 ]
I have been experimenting with the poetic form – The CHERITA . . .
‘Cherita’ is the Malay word for story or tale. A cherita consists of a single stanza of a one-line verse, followed by a two-line verse, and then finishing with a three-line verse. It can be written solo or with up to three partners. (See the website at: https://www.thecherita.com for further information).
1.
A letter arrives.
Hope stirs;
Is it from her?
Addressed to:
‘The householder’.
One more disappointment.
our world is not always a nice place to be
so let’s take off for paradise
to do that we must dream
so make a wish and dream
the dreams made from memories
choose daydreams
for they are made from pleasant ones
precious jewels of remembered moments
of childhood pleasures recreated in golden colours
under warm and generous skies
for what is nirvana but bliss
a perfect quietude
remembered from that golden age
when cares were so far away as to be invisible
and joy was present
in the simplicity of a walk in a spring meadow
in hesitant steps across a bubbling beck
in that breath of early evening air
bringing the scent of heather
and with it the rustle of new leaves
bursting to catch the evening air
amongst the rolling northern hills
the cradled landscape of that now distant home
forever a part of my being
both bedrock and comfort of my present
and succour of my hopes for the future
Walk, Eat, Sleep, Wake,
Little to do
To myself I talk
Thus the story
of twenty-twenty
Gone the years
of more and plenty
Cover my face
as in disgrace
Cross my heart
and keep apart
Cuddles banned
Hugs verboten
Kiss me quick
all that forgotten
When will it end
and will it ever
A Life to live
A love to sever
Lock me up
they might as well
For where I am
there I dwell
Nothing but time
to fill each day
And time never ends
so here I stay
Locked in this cell
not feeling well
Till hope returns
and once again
within me burns
Life lacks lustre
And my world is grey;
As it re-awakes,
Is it here to stay?
I’ve slumbered long
In my cocoon,
Sheltered and shielded
‘Neath a midday moon.
Spring with its joy
Struggles to bring
Its warmth and colour,
Its song to sing.
But after the storm
The clouds disperse;
I await with hope
To end my verse.
With bared feet
and sadness in my soul
I walk in the shallows
the waves rippling to my bare feet
I follow the ribs of the sand
to their end
in the swell of the next wave
and by their disappearance
I recognise the promise
of their continuation
for the world is in flux
a life beginning
as another ends
memory
fading at first
soon settles
into expectation
an affirmation
as the embers
of all that cease to be
are carried forward
in the seeds of
a future hope
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