The Truth

 

i made a long journey
like many before me
i had my fair share
of incidents, mishaps
some were of my own making,
others were simply there,
awaiting the unwary traveller

i learned much of the woods
how to read all the signs
and hear the approach
of the seekers of prey

i had little respect
for robbers and bandits
i had seen all their kind before
i held no vendetta against them
i dislike them neither more, nor less, now
than i did when i took to the road

i had made my own problems too
i wished to be left alone
sometimes yearning for home
it’s true

woods seem full of shadows
but darkness contrasts the light
and lets in the brightness of day
where is gleams through the branches
making clearer the safer way

i came to a clearing and rested
enjoying the peace,
listening to leaves sigh high on a breeze
above in the trees that whispered

if only i could stay
resting here forever
i looked at the paths leading on

it was a beautiful day
i felt some sense of completion

a sharp snap and an echo
the silence was gone
the sound of movement,
coming towards me,
secretly, fast

i felt a moment of panic
caught unaware
as they gathered around
to circle and slay me at last

calming my mind
i looked at the paths
the choices were many
which one should it be

i heard a signal
the voice of a raven
he stood in the sunlight
on a broad ancient branch of a tree
lit against shadow
by a path i instantly knew

it was as i had always imagined
well lit and wide open
it shone out beckoning me
nothing to fear any more
my weariness melted away
i saw i was home
this open wide path
lead straight to the door
where my soul awaited within

 

 

My Obsessions

this is a found poem – it comes from my tag cloud on this blog and so it consists of words I use a lot in poems……….

*********************

My Obsessions.

 

Ancient bards and books,
a breeze full of butterflies
above the Celtic hills.
Cities, clouds, the dance of death,
a desert dragons dream,
dreaming dreams with evening eyes
of fateful fantasy and fire
with firelight in the forest garden
where a girl with a haiku
plays a harp and sings
of heart and home and horses.

Imagination kindles lakes,
leaves, land and love,
love, always love,
magic memories of moons
moonlight, morning music.

At night, the oak overshadows
oceans of passion
paths of peace and perfume,
poems of rain and ravens,
the rocks, the river,
roses by the sea.
The sky a silver smile
when the snows come,
then the song of spring,
sunlight and starlight.

Time towers above the trees.
The wings of winter spread again
above a woodland made of words

Deliverance

up in the mountains i had a vision
a river flowed upstream
a friend handed me a rifle
she said ‘the world is full of surprises
we had better be prepared’
”you cant fight nature’ i replied

***

weeks later i went to see a friend
the news had all been bad
i was so glad to see him
my heart was over-whelmed and sad
he gave me a kitten
very small and white
her soft fur was a comfort
‘look after her’ he said

he gathered all his keys
and battened down the house
it was already shaking
its timbers groaned alive
gale warnings were on the radio
he said ‘we have to go
button up your coat
it’s very cold out there’
I held the kitten close

there were riots in the streets
young girls fought, kissed, taunted boys
the old were pushed aside
there was fire and looting
broken windows, shattered glass
lost children and screaming crowds
he lead me by the hand, he sang
he said it was an old song
i was glad to hear it
he sang it strong and clear
it did so much to cheer me
a man started to shout a speech
but all he said was ‘listen’
we left the town behind us
and then the weather came

raging rivers, rising seas
broken dikes, banks breached
swirling mists and fog
on the hills that we had reached
the road was surging water
the wind howled to wake the dead
and waters ran upstream
rained lashed against my eyes
we scaled higher over rocks
smooth, adamant, gleaming
with semi-precious polish
i imagined them forged in fire
when the world began
the kitten huddled closer to my chest

he said ‘maybe we should speak of this
acknowledge what this is,
the apocalypse has come,
its stupid now to say it isn’t true’
‘i saw some of this in a dream’ i said,
too shy to say it was a vision,
‘the rivers and the seas all ran the other way
i saw these polished rocks
black and red and white, shining
molten in fire, cooled, made solid by ice
will angels appear in cloud formations?
do you think they will be coming?’
he shrugged and smiled

he dragged me by the hand
we struggled up
then we found a dog
the dog was glad to follow
we became a traveling group of four
the raging gale began to drop
i saw a house
he pulled me through the door
he had made a home here
years and months before
in an empty hospital
the walls were painted gloss

he had built a wooden stair
that lead up to a loft
the wood was dark
and warm to the touch
my mother was safely there
she was frail but well
the strong wind had blasted
the lines from her face
she looked young again
she was packing and unpacking
and tidying her hair
distracted and confused

in a hallway, very simple,
beneath the wooden stairs
i saw four doors
all blank and bare, but one,
i knew this one was his
it was emblazoned with a sun
with golden wings spread wide
he gestured to the doors
‘one of these is yours
which one you must guess
and make it feel your own’
i didn’t care which it was
rescued, saved and wanted
i was happy to be there

Star of Wonder

see the shining star atop the tree

a star in every house and street

a mirror of the celestial map

a tribute to the stars above

 

shining out where pavements glitter

sparkling in the frosted air

beaming out from lighted doors

greeting every passer by

 

a star in every window, every home

a light that gives a thanks complete

a light of joy and silvered wonder

welcoming families home with love

 

this bright star so high above

a glorious guiding light

not intended for one night

but held aloft a life time long

 

The Hunter

This is the tale

of the hunter and hunted.

Night gathers and winter is here.

We find any fire to warm us.

 

We travel

seeking a home

a place away from the cold.

We settle, we live,

we move on, to return

We meet in eternal dance,

patterns change yet stay the same.

In time we meet again

 

As the stars appear

in the midnight sky

I see the light that shines

in your widening eyes

those well known eyes

I have seen before

 

When all journeys

are over and done

this beacon we lit

will guide us home

Winter Epiphany

Gazing into a fire of pitch black coal,
blazing heat, dark caverns, flickering flames
licking the rock with red, green and gold,
for a moment I am a child again,
entering caves and challenging dragons.
So easy it was to dream in those days.
The world dimmed and faded, vanished away.

I look to my heart, converse with my soul,
look to memories, remembering names,
loves that were new, joy, pain, loves that grew old.
This love I feel deeper cannot be changed.
No darkness can quench this burning desire.
In love we enter a magical land.
The cold world grows dim, fades, vanished away.

My heart and my soul adrift in dreams,
places more real than black stone or hot flame,
I sit at your side, gaze into warm fire,
at home, in peace, nothing vanished or lost.

Crossing the Bar

dreaming of shipwrecks

ragged rocks

pounding surf

wind turning fast

this ship rides the waves

as we aim for the Pole star

leading us homeward

watching for lights

and the beacons that blaze

no more cross currents

no undertow darkness

we are sailing for land

on a swell and wave

 

cutting through sea spray

the boom and the crash

of the thundering breakers

as we cross o’er the bar

from sweet tidal ocean

the moonlit path reaches

the beautiful river

and harbours embrace

bringing us back

where we are remembered

for just who we are

 

drop anchor

make fast

and sing of the sea