night

Go Gently

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

 

Go gentle, gentle, into that good night

Old age brings acceptance of this last fate

Fly, fly to the beckoning, golden light

 

All seasons will end by pre-ordained right

The wise men know that when the hour is late

Their soul will take leave for eternal light

 

Good men do not fear the long, deep dark night.

Do not rage, sadly berating your fate,

Go gentle and rest, return to the light

 

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

Will sing in their dreams with no wish to wait

They will fly swiftly, to shining, bright light

 

Grave men will ponder the beauty of night

They will pray tenderly, knowing their fate,

Remembering all that was loving, bright

 

And you my father,  in that blessed night

Look upon me, with no sadness, and wait

I will not rage at the death of the light

I will go gentle into that good night

 

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(sorry Mr Thomas – you know this means no disrespect – you are my favourite poet after Shakespeare – and I will pray for you often)

Shadow Dancing

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

shadows dancing on the wall in firelight

music heard far off, the shade behind the waterfall,

a leaf turning in light, falling, landing rots to dust

 

the echo of a voice across a valley far away, sun sinking,

frost that silvers the hilltops, the cocks crow at dawn,

a sense that all is born to die, overpowered, as it must

 

light reflected in a lake, rainbows over cornfields,

swallows gliding on the high still air, above the wood,

the dark smell of mud, these are things i trust

 

bring what life gives or go as it will

night into day, day into night,

underneath all this one dazzling beauty,

shining bright,

burning light,

conquering fruitless fear

 

 

On the Green Hill

/ A. Gouedard / 1 Comment

she comes to me after midnight,
whispering soft in my ear
her face full of moonlight,
her dress pale blue
starlight glints in the weave
i almost understand her whispered words

in a language i once knew
she tries to tell me stories,
lost long ago in sleep,
stories i lost in a dream,
stories inscribed on a unicorns horn
and the print of a satyrs hoof

i gather a word here and there
i store them away with care
but all the next day i long for her
my heart is bewitched, enthralled
I long for the night on the hill in the wood

The World

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

the sun, the shine,
the shadows fall beneath the trees,
tranquil trance of leaves, triumphant,
leaning, lofty, lovely, light

the love, the lost, the found, the learning,
light of love, looping flight
flight to night, the moon, the stars,
stars that lead the navigator

star of wonder, star of hope
tent of sky, singing songs
sounds of battle, lullaby and funeral marches
swords and strangers, the strong, the mighty

might have been, may be still, morning comes,
comes with chimes, chime of bell,
bells of silver, shiver, shatter, shards,
sentinels of silence, stone

stones in water, stones in sea,
the rivers rush, rolling, waters rising into cloud,
rain and rainbow. what of us?
What of us? we were. we are.

walking, wandering, wondering why,
where and when, will it, wont it come again
the sun, the shine and is this all?
are we really all so small?

the sun, the shine, a burst of light,
burgeons, blossoms, blooms and grows,
glows and gladdens, glancing eyes,
eyes that see, the world, the life unfold,
enfold, enshrine, delightful,
dancing, woven in delicious dream,
the globe, the glow, eternal, bright,
entrances me – this glorious world

Good Evening

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

Good evening

 

The day of death comes when it comes

that’s the sum and the wonder of it,

it teaches us how we should live.

 

If I find the wait for departure

too gruelling, or late,

I won’t stand about on that grey platform

in the cold, without a companion,

huddled up in a worn out old coat,

my collar turned up and shivering.

So tiresome!

 

When all is prepared, right and ready

I will die with delight

on a bright moonlit night,

clear stars filling the sky,

I will hold up my soul

to the moonlight above.

I will tell the world

how much I have loved it,

give thanks, state my intention.

strip off the old coat

and accept the warmth

that comes with the cold

in a garden at night

very old.

 

The rest will be history

written by others

if written at all

in a never ending story