There's a music in my soul,
soft lyrics sound in my head.
Words I know so well,
about thoughts I've never said.

Like spirits on the wind,
grains of sand before the storm.
The harmonies in tune,
where the symphony does form.

Sometimes the theme it is so clear,
constant lilt and steady beat.
Stories of places I would go,
and people I've yet to meet.

Often I hear the cry,
of a soul that's lost its way.
Where thoughts hide in the night,
and my demons have their say.

Some would say its a sad song,
but it has a comfort when it comes.
With the violin song so clear,
and steady beat of muffled drums.

My soul is singing to my mind,
and through the harmonies they play.
To chase darkness from my thoughts,
until they dissolve all life's pains away.

Yes I love it when it sounds,
when that music fills my soul.
I can feel alive again,
spirit for a time completely whole.

Let your soul write your song,
listen and heed  its steady refrain.
Move along with it, where it leads,
as it comes to ease your pain.

Divisive, abusive, hollow and torn,
Our politics broken through anger and scorn,
More pointing of fingers, of turning one's back,
Is this the new norm, our thorny new track?

What happened to thinking before all those tweets,
Like manicured gardens torn up by rough cleats,
The skill of debate, of viewing both sides,
Bridging that gap from all which divides?

Conviction and Passion bedfellows at times,
Are often the cause of unspeakable crimes,
Opinions do matter but where the heart rules
Indiscriminately steals the most precious of tools.

Reason and empathy, knowledge and tact,
Not impulse and odium and that's a firm fact;
One road may be windy, the other dead straight,
But both may yet lead to the very same gate.

A viewpoint reminds of an infant just born,
It develops and thrives if loved not forlorn,
Tended and taught by the many not few,
For that kernel of light to shine brightly through.

Balanced and just, open to thought,
Opinions conceived and not merely taught,
An untenable vision, an improbable dream?
It takes but the thinnest of wedges to open a seam.

Dazzled!
Blinded by the Sun.
My eyes scream in pain.
But then they ease
And as I soak up the scene
My spirit lifts.

All is brightly lit
In glorious sunshine.
Lush green foliage
Reflecting those golden rays
Provoking images
Of sunny beaches
Swaying palms
On remote tropical isles.

Under the dome of a hazy light-blue sky
Bedecked with fluffy fair-weather clouds
We bask in the sun, sun, sun.

What more can you ask for
On a balmy summer day?
Well, maybe a cool pint of ale.
Amen.

Paul Butters

© PB 13\5\2021.

Precious seconds fill the void of time
For every second that goes by
One month has passed
And only eleven more
Before the end.
Do you just sit there
Waiting to be consumed,
Or do you feel life
In every second that passes?
Either way your time is limited.

Are you here?
Are you present in this moment,
Or is the passing of time something that happens to you?
What did you eat for breakfast last monday?
Do you even remember this morning?
Don’t let these precious seconds slip by,
Just because they’re not tied to precious memories.
Because the seconds with the people you love,
And the ones passed in the monotony of the day to day,
Are all the same length,
And each is an equal step forward
To the last second you get to spend.

Wilting is in our nature;
It's a part of existence
But the wilting bud left unbloomed
Leaves no greater waste
Of beautiful minds.
Sprout and let your roots
Plant deep
But let your heart show
That what you keep to yourself,
Doesn’t need to be uprooted
To be shown.
Just because the sky breathes
Winter through the clouds,
Doesn’t mean the sun
Isn’t shining behind them’
Don’t let yourself wilt
Just because the sky gives an excuse.

Existential horror.
The dread of being on a conveyor belt,
Taken somewhere you don’t know,
Your destination far away or around the corner,
With no power to slow down or stop.
Now or later,
We all reach the destination we’re bound for,
So why waste another moment,
Staring blankly down,
In attempts to deny you’re going anywhere?
Look up,
And join us as we face the end with hope.
334 more days.
334 more opportunities to live instead of simply not dying.

Place of peace and place of joy
Where the sorrow stays no more
Take your dreams which once were there
Store them deeply with such care.
For when the morning sparrow flys. From the sunset to the rise.
The dream which was so clear and true
Now is nothing what you knew.
So take it now and make it bold
For when the night is dark and cold.
They light the way for brighter futures.

Now it time to sit and see.
Just how great it can really be.