consumed by tears, brought
by a raging wind, even
patient trees can snap
The light looked too inviting.
Warm and brilliant though it was, something felt eerily amiss.
A lack of movement, perhaps! No, that wasn’t it.
Although stillness gripped the moment, what really proved unnerving was the inexplicable aura of familiarity, beckoning and urging him to relinquish his feeble hold on life – all for a mere feeling of belonging.
Belonging to what?
What could the unknown offer that life could not?
Before reason could grasp the magnitude of the question to summon anxiety, time intervened by refusing to lend itself to such meaningless thoughts; choosing instead to clear a path to redemption.
How sweet the blush,
as day greets night,
and night greets day.
such lovers meet,
their love will never stray.
“So bright their light,
a hearts delight,”
words poets do gladly say.
Over summer months,
or winter years,
with joy I hope they stay.
Ever may night meet day
and day meet night-
embraced with love…I pray.
As I turned, to set my gaze upon her distant face, I realised that never would a day rise more beautifully than If I were to awaken by her side.
Moments ago, in dreams, she was mine…more real than the brightness of the sun summoning me to the light of day!
Now, awake to her presence, my heart dares not hope, dares not be more than a shadow in her light.
Sadly, I must contentment find in the mere thought of her touch.
For dreamy moments, are but dreams. She, a Goddess, I to remain no more than man.
Even the desire to live could not silence the madness compelling him to risk all for but a moment in her light. Such was the ferocity of love, that it quickly persuaded reason to allow the body to follow waves of feelings, against unforgiving barriers set to still his heart.
Such was the magnitude of foolishness, that even driven to ground by the weight of impending defeat, a lone voice dared to speak of hope. If sincerity did linger, it clearly left long ago, surrendering all to madness, whose reckless breath urged brave men to rise,… only to fall. “Charge!”
I wonder who you answer to,
O most precious of drops
that come to cloud our skies?
How strange, even odourless
and colourless, your absence
is always sorely missed.
How easily you flow
with purpose into our lives
as we meander through life.
Being ever reflective in the sun,
cool in the night, all grow to
appreciate your virtues.
As the true heir to clarity
and light, even life eagerly
awaits you in all its seasons.
For, however, tasteless you are,
thirst is quick to rush to you
in aid of desperate lips.
Even your moments of white
stillness speak of great strength
whose coldness can move mountains.
Blessed with fluidity and brotherly bonds,
pools, rivers, lakes and oceans
are keen to hold your essence.
Universal solvent, you are one of a kind,
all will forever seek to know you,
but please… always, – always be mine!
Overwhelmed by memories of punishment received by misplaced steps, the figure that had once fearlessly graced these dark uninviting streets, now alert to even the most innocuous of presence, found himself withdrawing with urgency into its darkest shadows; choosing to worship caution more than valour, like a ghost he vanished.
Many dreams falter in dark shadows
With the rising sun, arrives hope
Light changes one’s perspective on life
Darkness was there to teach appreciation
If we could but winter forestall,
the many vestiges of haunting regrets
would vanish as night gives way to day,
in an endless stream of renewed hope.
For fed by unfettered opportunities,
with appreciation sharpened by experience,
even the most bitter of memories,
would not dare again speak of squander.
Alas, like the light of a candle, life is brief!
It can but shine attention on what avails.
Only when awakened to this truth,
will each day be as spring
and opportunities that do tarry
be gladly seized without contention,
to banish the fog of disappointment
evermore to emotionless history.
If only it were as easy as words now suggest,
that hearts could beat endlessly or
thoughts grow enlightened!
But we, of mortal dispositions,
with often much vested in tragedy,
are easily blinded by unforeseen loss.
Being ill-equipped to balance loss with gain,
how quickly we bury minds in past.
Trapped in dying dormant bodies, with even the silence of space eluding us; to souls who mattered, the voyage beyond the stars could not have been more perfect. In truth too perfect for reality to condone, but for those on the journey what unfolded was truly the stuff of dreams!
I get it!
It isn’t always easy being who we are.
We didn’t choose to be born,
or to find ourselves labelled at birth.
Why are we male, not female?
Black or white?
Why are we not as clever?
As healthy? As wealthy?
Where is the justice in being
tethered to a name that bears
little recognition, whilst others bask
in glories assigned to them by the past?
Are we wrong to expect more than our lot?
Wrong to curse our luck?
Or to feel envious as we look
across an ocean of divide
to see our dreams take
shape in other’s hands?
We kid ourselves
that all are equally blessed,
such things as wealth
are within the grasp of
each and everyone.
That those who stumble
do so through their own fault
Blinded by privilege,
convenience often hides the truth
and paints dreams
to silence the voice
I do not doubt that such rosy fate
blooms in many gardens,
but in earnest, how would you fare
if you are accidently birthed
in a wilderness of disappointments?
Tension sent shivers through the air, as astounded eyes met to turn thought from calm reflection to jittery apprehension. To further compound the already suffocating awkward gazes now twitching into focus, beads of sweat greeted the frost of the moment, as even meaningless words struggled for conception.”Fancy meeting you here?”
Chained to unforgiving oars, with muscles set to taming oceans, the mournful cry of the damned could not be soothed by the timely drums summoning their force to bear. With lives ripped by cold incessant whips, driving putrid flesh from bone, sadly what remained no longer bore semblance to men.