like the sun shone

for you

Tag: Togetherness

Unspoken

The ballet of death
as much as
the ballet of life
is sewn and performed together
for one without the other
is nothing but a memory
of that unspoken thing

and all together
we move through the rain
where bows and roses bloom
knowing that come too soon
is that, unspoken thing

we shelter our souls
from the rains of humanity’s
tears
hoping there comes a time
when she gives her sign
of that unspoken thing

our feeling hearts
our tremulous blood
our awakening eye

thine distant shore
comes to the fore
as we dare to speak

that unspoken thing

for love is nothing
but a coming together
of life and death

for without which
we cannot finish the poem

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Watching the snowflakes

Silent explosions of creation appear beyond the window
as I listen to, or am bombarded by, the eternal ringing in my ears

Silence is an impossible dream

Watching the leaves in spring stretch and yawn
Watching the rose petals romance the world
Watching the beautiful deaths colour the postcards
Watching the snowflakes’ individualities show us how

Silent explosions of creation appear beyond the window
and here I sit crunching ginger biscuits

Silence is an impossible dream

Find your soul

Be true
look inside
search for it
open yourself
to your open self
look around and see
watch for the moments
smile as you come across
the You that You once were
know that what is in you is also
in all of us and it lives waiting silent
because we are all one together one spirit
breathe and relax feel for the one You
that wants to be You as you were
meant to be always and ever
smile and touch your soul
feel its power its energy
look inside and dream
of what you can be
of what you will
be if you just
look inside
be true

~

This was originally posted in December 2011.

I’m thinking of deleting my old stuff and just keeping 6 months or so of poems on the blog and re-posting some. I’ve been wanting to get a collection together for quite a while now to send away to a publisher, so I think I’ll delete a lot of the stuff from here as I say and then edit what I think is worthy of publication and fingers crossed someone might like them!

Happy New Year everyone 🙂 and thank you all for visiting, liking, commenting and subscribing to my blog!

 

Just yesterday

Sitting alongside the old man is a duckling. The old man and a duckling; him almost crossed legged, her looking a bit lost, sort of half sitting half ready to jump in the canal.

The old man is staring out across the fields with his hands on his knees oblivious to the duckling.

The duckling is looking up at the old man, is looking left and right; not that she knows what left and right is and she is looking at the water.

The old man wipes a tear from his cheek and smiles as a moorhen drifts on by. He gives a little snort of chuckle and stretches his legs rubbing his knees. He remembers the wedding like it was yesterday; sixty seven years just yesterday. It was sixty seven years just yesterday when she died. He never remarried. He remained faithful. He is a virgin of ninety three years. Sixty seven years just yesterday, on her birthday, on their wedding day ten minutes after the ring was placed on her finger, she died.

He has waited for this day to come, this day today. He can feel it in his bones, in his chest, in his knees; he can feel that today is a good day to kiss the bride once more.

The duckling looks lost in the silence of the ripples as a barge’s engine put-puts on by. She aches more than anything to ride those ripples but she’s lost her mother and her sisters and brothers. All she has is this old man rubbing his knees who doesn’t even know she’s there.

The old man smiles as he takes a breath and using his last bit of creaking will power he turns to kneel and stand thinking that this is the time to meet his bride.

“Quack …”

An event like this can knock us mortals to the core, can brings tears of loneliness to well up, can make us feel strange, can make our hearts shudder a little and our souls to perhaps emit a smile of corded warmth to the event. And so it has to the old man.

That little lost almost silent quack stings the old man’s breath. He cries at that pitiful little creature’s plight. He sits down again and turns his face to the duckling. He reaches out his hand, palm up.

The duckling sees the strength in that hand, sees that with the smallest of moves she could be crushed, slapped away, thrown away … yet she also sees the wisdom that is in the ages of nature and so she steps onto his palm and looks up into his oaken face.

The old man lifts the duckling beak to nose and sees that today is not a good day to swim. He feels the loneliness of his life fade away as he looks into her eyes and sees that just yesterday she said yes as today this duckling said quack.

He stands with his wobbly knees and cradling the duckling, walks home, smiling, and from his soul there comes a warmth that will last … who knows for how long but now she is happy, she is not lost, she is not lonely, she did not die just yesterday sixty seven years ago, she is here in the palm of his hands.

This was originally written on my story site for Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday on March 1st, 2013 and the prompt was serendipity

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