Climb too enthusiastically
Into a mirror of the self
And you may never get out,
Never escape the greedy maze
Of its seductive stare.
For myself, I understand
I simply have to be
And give, as best I can.
And then just leave.
Complicit in lingering too long?
I hope not…
Far better to focus instead
On establishing a warmth
And light within,
That begins to stir
Your very own story.
Then, at whatever point in your life,
You have a way forward,
A purpose to begin.
Follow its lead,
Treasure wherever it takes you,
Make of it what you will.
And when the heat
Of its giddy energy
Starts to fade,
Then you know
Your time may be running short.
Once in a while,
Along the way,
By all means pause
To consider your situation,
If you must!
Like the most delicate of cautious spiders
That sometime
Might still think it necessary to flee
Or even to stop and fight,
To quarrel,
To consume or be consumed.
Your fate though
Is not nearly as tentative
Or parlous as this.
For, along the oft fearful
And meandering trail,
The miasm of life,
Your hallowed soul within
Still offers you clear direction
And fragrant sanctuary.
Sacred space in which
To distil, like amber,
The best of your love.
And forgives you also
For mistakes of the heart
And nostalgia for moments gone,
But not forgotten…
The best of times
When you shone as you should.
The true harvest here
Is inestimable,
Endless gilded web
It radiates forever.
Ripples and tremors of light,
You may never see their end…
Such things happen.
And, for a time,
Under their shrivelled cowl
There’s little else we can do.
Never sadder or more downcast
Than when bereaved, deserted,
Damaged, neglected.
And however deep we delve
For speedy comfort,
For reassurance
That we cannot help but yearn for,
When random tragedy
Or the cold cruelty of others
Tarnish the day,
There can be none.
Unless you possess
The zinc heart of a zealot,
Born of the brutalities of others,
There are answers though.
Despite the awful hazards
That, in living,
We have no choice but to embrace.
How unspeakably sad that
However pure, however cherished
And safe in times past,
Something, anything, anyone
Still here with us
Can still be spoilt and ruined so,
When left prey to circumstance
And the callous whims
Of those already lost in the darkness.
Legacy though,
Like the light of love
In any infant’s eye,
Remains impervious
To any such violation,
Seeding aspirations that live on.
Inspiration to rise above
A mass of malignant possibilities
And, in so doing, remind each other of
Just what the human spirit is capable of.
There may well be times in your life
When you lose sight of your soul.
But, trust me, it can always see you…
A hallowed frequency within
That, even in your darkest hour,
You can always turn to.
Knowing that,
When the tortures of self doubt
And the bitterest of all tears
Are in your eyes,
This choice remains forever yours.
What became of you, my love?
The years have flown by…
The distance between us though,
Moulded,
Shaped by life’s experience,
Is a kind one.
Perhaps always knowing more
Than we ever did then
At our most youthful and resplendent.
Wow!
We had a time, didn’t we?
And it lingers still like fire burn,
Like lamp light in my being.
So just imagine
At this very moment,
Somewhere in the world,
Two lovers are busy at play
– Ecstatic,
Aflame for the very first time.
Think of that
And let your heart warm again
So gloriously,
As it did once before.
Whatever joys come our way,
The road ahead will be a hard one.
Your kinship though is precious,
Like sweet molasses,
Fuel for my journey.
Sometimes returning,
Battered and bruised I admit,
My basket full of
Fresh hewn promises,
Chiselled out and polished in hope.
And with all my dreams too
Of what could come true,
Of what my labours long to proffer you.
You know I give you my love, as best I can.
Together we live to the point of tears,
I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Sharp and attuned,
Blessed with the greatest gift of all
– Compassion.
Some are destined to tell stories
That show us the way
To where we long to be.
Some say life’s a mystery.
Others, forever young at heart,
May disagree.
There’s absolutely no quandary
There they say…
Just feel the light
And let your heart warm,
Till all and every possibility
Of hurt and doubt
Simply melts away.
So I share your tears too.
Tears of joy, of certainty, of longing,
Of when we all will be as one
In light never ending.
You and I,
We have never met – face to face.
But believe me,
I still smile nevertheless,
Each time I think of you.
Knowing that you, like me,
Feel the celestial gravity
In your soul,
Feel the stars ache kindly,
As they wait patiently
For us.
You know how it is.
After all, in this life at least,
Our fate is rarely epic.
Maybe just as well,
Impervious heroes we are not…
No more than porous
Flesh and blood,
Blessed with all the vagaries
That accompany that sometime glorious
And often uneasy state,
Given our need to absorb,
To recover
From whatever comes our way,
For the journey ahead is a long one.
All this a pageant of life
Far easier to observe
In others, of course.
And because of that
It’s so easy sometimes
Yourself
To just slide away,
To melt, oh so slowly
And unnoticed,
Into some long yawning drift
To nowhere left at all,
Where real joy might still be shining.
Alive, but as if lost
To any hope of rescue or rejuvenation.
That is till inner needs conjure,
As if in spite of you,
The alchemy of unexpected experience
Or chance encounter with a kindred spirit,
The kindness of strangers maybe?
Any of which might touch and re-ignite
Something precious within.
Mislaid flame of tender emotions
Rekindled.
And with this, comes a sudden rush
Of warmth and validation
In the ensuing embrace,
The consequent smile,
The sigh of insight,
The tear that falls afresh.
As we stumble upon a brief moment
Of illuminated reflection
That, as if gifted,
Blesses and unburdens everything.
And you are an orphan to your soul
No more.
However you may shine,
Infection is everywhere
And it’s a nonsense.
Look at what they can hang before us.
The sordid sins of the world itself,
Like shroud bearers in the Plague,
And grubbily persistent too,
As if they have no shame,
Nor right, it seems,
To share with us
The blessed light of the day.
Interwoven with selfish desires
To be ashamed of,
It’s the cold wind of fear though
That sometimes calls you to them.
After all, your life in this circus
Has already been quite a procession,
Stretching back into the distance
To precipitate this point.
A long line of enquiry
Inevitably riddled with mistakes.
Hurting as you may be
Right now,
What a wonderful thing it is
Not to be alone.
This ashen cloth
Won’t ever quite leave me be either,
Living as I do on a prayer.
But, as my eyes lift again
To the world,
I can at least be with you.
Your body, your spirit,
Healing like warm stones,
Sourcing and soothing the exhaustion
In my soul,
So I can fall back skyward,
Safe in your arms,
And survive to dream again.
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