Sidney E Johnson
I am a man of little re-known and that is of little consequence if what i write is an inspiration to the reader. I was born in a small town in Michigan in 1953 and grew up in the 50's and 60's to be a man. Later I met and married my wife of 26 years and raised three daughters of whom I am extremely proud. My wish is to leave a legacy of my writings to the world, but if not i shall have lived a good and Godly life and lit a few candles to burn in my absence.
Who passed the night with silent pining?
A face hidden from moonlit sight,
Twas I the hunter said at last and sighed,
My only prey has taken flight.
She fled into the brambled thrall,
I ne'er but glimpsed her pale white face,
And since that night I've wept within this wood,
'Tis become my solitary place.
My quiver lost its missles long ago,
This sacred bow remains unstrung,
The cold now creeps like moss on trees,
And her song is yet to be sung.
My hair is white my face is grey,
These peircing eyes now dim,
I sometime catch her gentle scent,
Perhaps its just my foolish whim.
But O' that once and once again to hunt,
Her wiles seducing all my heart,
And I pursuing yet pursued by love,
Once again to draw the soul apart.
By S. E. Johnson copyright 2012
A close and crowded world I find,
And all its citizens are blind,
They only see a single face,
Their own that occupies this place.
No other person can they see,
No stranger stranded, even me,
Beyond the darkness of each hedge,
They share no creed they give no pledge.
A box I hold within my hand,
Brought thoughtfully into this land,
And 'neath its lid a shimmering pool,
Where searchers find a sacred rule,
Put others first reflected plain,
Learn their face and yes, their name,
For every face is meant to be read,
The living first and then the dead.
Alas, a few peered 'neath the lid,
While others eyes remained well hid,
So slowly closed I my precious cask,
And none there were who cared to ask.
Where did you find this magic box,
And has it not some chains and locks,
To keep inside such treasure horde,
Such wealth is more than we can afford.
A close and crowded world I found,
And all its citizens were bound,
They only saw a single face,
Their own within an empty place.
I mended my nets and cast them out,
The sea was full of fishes,
I pulled in a drought of silver fins,
Beyond my fondest wishes.
Had I not mended my wounded nets,
To home I might have come bare,
My children would go to bed hungry,
And my wife would say a prayer.
How wisely did I use my time,
Though some may think it odd,
That an old and weary fisherman,
Would listen to his God.
For twas He who bid me take the time,
To sew the broken line,
And He who sent the drought of fish,
Would send to me this sign.
My mended nets will yield me strength,
As God gives great increase,
And now I know how mercy works,
Which gives this old fisherman peace.
I am counted as grass,
The leaf on the bough,
the scattering of seeds,
The earth and the plow.
The Lord of our years
The siphon of time,
has counted out days,
Both yours and mine.
My fields has he set,
with a swiftness of flame,
ashes to ashes,
And nothing the same.
Is enough but a number,
the counting of days,
The Lord of the harvest
a man justly obeys.
The shell is now empty,
his skin but a rag,
I pass by the grave,
its marked by a flag.
The Lord of our years
a master of age,
Has doled out his judgment,
and given his wage.
I died and lay within the dust,
Ages passed as ages must,
When eons ceased I woke anew,
And brought my visions back to you.
I told you of the endless rains,
Across the endless barren plains,
Once long ago the earth was new,
Its ancient days I spoke to you.
Wide eyed in death I saw the sun,
Until I was the only one,
The world became another land,
I held its dust within my hand.
The circle of my timely death,
Breath upon my fetid breath,
Silent there transposed my fast,
The end of time had come at last.
I died again for moments then,
Dreamed of shadows and of men,
Ages come as ages do,
Yet every word I spoke is true.
Everything that man had done,
Into the finite dust was spun,
And on and on I repose in state,
Returning here my endless fate.
I fell to earth I know not why,
But somewhere once I knew the sky,
I knew the sky and knew it well,
But that was long before I fell.
The place I knew was velvet black,
And if I could I would go back,
To where I once was like a star,
I would go back but its too far.
Today I'm just a shiny stone,
Upon the shore and all alone,
All alone and shiny bright,
A stone to catch the evening light.
From where I fell above the sky,
I see the trailing comets fly,
The countless stars, the velvet night,
And I a stone to catch the light.
There are no days too dark,
Light cannot filter through,
When its too hard to face the truth,
Behind the clouds the sky is blue.
When tears are all you know,
You can always wipe them dry,
They will not last forever,
The storm will soon pass by.
When life's music is a sad lament,
The words are too hard to sing,
There's a melody that resonates,
When plucked upon each string.
When all the "whys" go unanswered,
You can always ask the "whens",
As the curtains open wide for you,
And you've said your last amens.
In the stillness of your solitude,
You are never all alone,
When you've tossed upon your bed,
And your pillow is a stone.
There's a reason for the moment,
There's a candle for the dark,
There's a fountain for the thirsty,
And a page to leave your mark.
The cold and weary feeling,
Will give way to peace and rest,
At the crossing of the narrows,
And the final human test.
To stand and breathe the sweetness,
Will reward the vigilant soul,
At the passing of the torches,
When the lost have reached the goal.
Dear and gentle friends
May I speak of life and hope?
Of what I wish for you,
That in this life you each may cope.
Your faces come to me at night
When I would seek my rest,
Tis then I ponder all our goodness
And wish for you the best.
The solitary moments of regret,
My words oft left unsaid,
When I should have spoken candidly
Of those who now are dead.
Life briefness goes unnoticed
And silence is a thief,
As tears are brushed away from eyes
And none can find relief.
O' Tender hearts and dearest souls,
Let not one day go by,
Without the time of friends embraced
For too quickly we may die.
Bend the knees of my heart to the earth,
To the cold and frozen ground,
Let the fetters of memories war,
Finally be broken and unbound.
Were all the loves that once were lost,
Be cast into the sea,
Should roll upon the shores of souls,
Every flotsam and debris.
T'would not forestall the endless curse,
Of lost and lonely years,
Nor blot the stain on velum page,
Of all the cruel tears.
Bend the knees of my heart to the earth,
Let me weep 'til the sun shall rise,
If perchance t'would wash my soul,
And cleanse my burning eyes.
Nay I fear the deed is done,
We cannot mask the soul,
Nor scrape the blood from off the stone,
And make the mourner whole.
Full in the wake of winter we stood,
In the face of impossible odds,
The frost of our fury was froth on our breath,
To these mortals we were as gods.
Come then and let it be in winter,
Full in the rage of the storm,
We shall be waiting to send you to hell,
It is there you will only be warm.
We are the children of winter,
The frozen wastes they are ours,
Where metal rusts and flesh is hoary,
You cannot defeat these powers.
Come winter we shall bare our teeth,
Neath the cloak of autumn's leaf,
Press hard the long coats in the trench,
And give them no relief.
He shall sally forth out of the north,
With an icy wind that's raw,
Then in his wake the spring shall break,
And with it the hope of thaw.
Yet in every muddy trench a fetid smell,
From the cold and bloated dead,
Our hand has dealt the blow of frost,
And the enemy's courage is fled.
I am perplexed of late,
This deathly still has becalmed,
The heart that beat in terror,
When all the earth embalmed,
As that cocoon that sleeps neath leaves,
And all the dreams I dreamed,
Once were cast into the flames,
And echoed there it screamed.
Aloud the hatred of humanity,
The cruel ways of men gone mad,
Their fingers spread upon the keys,
And played a song so sad,
I nearly wept away these scales
Upon my eyes these blinders,
Dark glasses worn to hide the tears,
And sit among the cinders,
Where I am perplexed at all this coldness,
Frosted window panes and icy breath,
To channel all the grieving hearts,
And learn to live with death.
Would I have this folly pass,
This melancholy episode complete,
When I accepted death, ah deadly woe,
What lies eternal at my feet.
I no longer walk the stones,
along the busy street,
Nor do I dance among the shadows
cast beneath my naked feet.
Where once I was oblivious,
of this worlds passing throng,
In the rush and hurried frenzy
I somehow now belong.
In songs and silly laughter,
Once drew my youthful heart,
To places filled with wonder,
vowing never to depart.
Today my time is taken up
pursuing others dreams,
Where I am prone to ponder on,
plots and endless schemes.
O' that I once again might walk,
Atop the stony wall,
Not hurrying to reach some goal,
or fearing I might fall.
But just for fun and nothing more,
find joy in shadow play,
And laugh aloud in foolish glee,
in the middle of the day.
Look at me I'd tell the crowd,
I'm balancing on the wall,
And laugh when they would fuss at me,
don't worry I shall not fall.
Yonder comes the sky ship captain,
He braids his hair with gold,
His hands are at the cloudy helm,
His face is stern and bold.
His ship is in the bluest sea,
The hull is thick lace and silver lined,
And if you should stare long after it,
Tis said you shall go blind.
The captain comes for those who sleep,
Neath the stars on the dewy eve,
And sons and husbands caught away,
Leave wives and mothers behind to grieve.
O' Captain do not take those lads,
Who ne'er have known the power of love,
For a man should not see heaven's steel,
If never his heart did prove.
The ship has parted the clouds of night,
Too late to wake the sleeping souls,
Drawn up to the deck of silver galleon,
As out on the stars she rolls and rolls and rolls.
The world is watching through the clouds,
Where angels spread their wings,
Hoping all the blaring trumpet sounds,
Is all there is that judgment brings.
The baffled prophets stand afraid,
They think they see the end,
When stars shall fall like fiery rain,
And man's ways will never mend.
The saints are singing hymns of praise,
Yet their words fill empty air,
Their music falls into the earth,
With none t'would seem to hear.
The world is watching through the clouds,
But who can know tomorrow,
Or endless ages long passed away,
God knows too well their sorrow.
God is watching through the clouds,
The angels gaze in wonder,
His earth is filled with saddened souls,
While the heavens filled with thunder.
When the ground shakes and trembles,
It is the footsteps of giants,
Those who imprint the world with change,
Who stand alone in defiance.
Upon their shoulders we see tomorrow,
Beyond our sad and ordinary days,
They stride ahead into morning mists,
To drive away the haze.
The ground shakes 'neath their tread,
Status quo hates such visionary thought,
They hide behind their festive masks,
That stolen gold has bought.
Still high above the chaotic mob,
With heads above the sky,
The giants see into the mists,
Uplifting you and I.
When the earth shakes, mountains fall,
The status quo is broken,
The free are loosed into the fray,
And the words of wisdom spoken.
Foundations crumble when brave men dream,
When stars are brought to earth,
The sleepers wake to sing and dance,
And death gives way to birth.