1.
And so, I clamber up the heavy slope
and sit alone upon a wide, flat rock.
I still the voices clamouring hard within
and try to listen to the air settle and breathe . . .
The eagle swoops low, whirring loud beside the rocky outcrop
likening its talons to sustain the hold of life . . . (this line to be amended ...sounds odd)
Leaves quiver silent on massive trees
obedient to nature, yet roots bold outgrown . . .
Shade reaches and stretches genial arms
while feel of dark and moist, fertile ground pervades . . .
Air thick with teeming life the eye can't see
thrums with invisible threads, linking slow tendrils . . .
Quiet sky looms dignified and peers squinted
while sun rays slant into pores, kiss my cheek.
Beetles scamper light along the soft, red sand
and not unlike them, I seek still the answer within . . .
2.
Fierce fire takes up dry tinder, consumes into heated coils
destroying with relish, yet offer cleansing balm . . .
3.
Sudden rains refresh, glance off surprised face, upturned
sweet deluge leaves all sodden to delighted heart . . .
4.
I turn not away
I look up
to receive . . . gladly.
I give such thanks
fall on knees to see . . .
No red sky (as in my nightmares)
No lost sun
No smoky horizon
No grey trees
No dead leaves.
Only yellow sunshine
Only blue sky
Only green leaves
Only clear horizon
as far as the eye can see.
S T, 8 May 2013
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 1:01 AM UTC
1.
And so, I clamber up the heavy slope
and sit alone upon a wide, flat rock.
I still the voices clamouring hard within
and try to listen to the air settle and breathe . . .
The eagle swoops low, whirring loud beside the rocky outcrop
likening its talons to sustain the hold of life . . . (this line to be amended ...sounds odd)
Leaves quiver silent on massive trees
obedient to nature, yet roots bold outgrown . . .
Shade reaches and stretches genial arms
while feel of dark and moist, fertile ground pervades . . .
Air thick with teeming life the eye can't see
thrums with invisible threads, linking slow tendrils . . .
Quiet sky looms dignified and peers squinted
while sun rays slant into pores, kiss my cheek.
Beetles scamper light along the soft, red sand
and not unlike them, I seek still the answer within . . .
2.
Fierce fire takes up dry tinder, consumes into heated coils
destroying with relish, yet offer cleansing balm . . .
3.
Sudden rains refresh, glance off surprised face, upturned
sweet deluge leaves all sodden to delighted heart . . .
4.
I turn not away
I look up
to receive . . . gladly.
I give such thanks
fall on knees to see . . .
No red sky (as in my nightmares)
No lost sun
No smoky horizon
No grey trees
No dead leaves.
Only yellow sunshine
Only blue sky
Only green leaves
Only clear horizon
as far as the eye can see.
S T, 8 May 2013
Insomniac scribblings :)
Just finished reading amazing short story by Joan Aiken (born 1924).
A most fabulous and dynamic tale of mystery and humour, hope and dreams by two protagonists Tom and Lily ...'Searching for Summer'.
Story written in the 1950's, of a life where only drab colours exist...no sunshine.
At the time of publication, the memory of the 1945 atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki remained fresh in the minds of many.
People lived with the lurking threat of nuclear war, weapons retesting, radioactive matter (fallout), air pollution.
Simply put, nuclear anxiety.
Yet.....
If we can but give the merest credence to the power of dreams overstepping the bounds of reality, then maybe...just maybe.....(along with an indomitable spirit).....
oh well.
