I am wrapping myself up
In the ends of the year
Quietly, with slow movements
The kind that shapes
The way we think
Letting go so gently
For all has been spoken
I walk the galleries
The galaxies of memories
Where poet’s words come from
Quietly, my old year, that shrivelled old senior
Falls asleep amidst the fireworks
That riotously run their course
Among the shooting stars
*Burst of celestial fireworks NASA
I’ve been quietly basking
Quietly basking in the spirit
In the spirit of Twixmas peace
You know of what I speak
I speak of that deep silence
That deep silence that awaits
A glimpse of final sunrises and sunsets
The sunsets that hold all the secrets
All the secrets of the year to come
I long to clutch these year end days
Year end days that have no words
No words yet except to wait
Is that a promise?
A promise that can be kept?
Be kept snuggled to my heart?
I’ve been quietly basking.
I don’t want to worry about it anymore
About being good enough
About being safe, secure
Yet, I don’t want to throw away
A whole Cathedral of beliefs
That place where the light comes from.
I question what you want from me.
It’s been awhile….
The Time Passage
I live in a time of quiet places
I reach for words
Look for moments
In which your words do penance
Or disappear into the deep
Silent abyss of memories
The ghost of loss reaches out
Wiping silver tears from my eyes
Wrapping me in an invisible cloak
My urgent questions slip away
Down, deep down, spiraling
Into the time passage.
Image: Roger Groom
Don’t make me grimace
Or speak Words not meant
Just let me be surprised
As I open the gift, Lord
That you have given me
In this day
I refuse to be an enemy
of the good
As I feel the cold air
Ruffle my feelings
In this world of deaf people
i just make a list of the things
You ask me to do and go
Tied up with a crimson bow.
Sometimes life seems just too much
I write as a beacon to tell others such
For it’s not easy the road we tread
The signs we ignore, others left unread.
How quickly we arrive at the end of life’s course
And we’re done, no time for remorse
What will you leave for those still in the race
As they gaze with expectation
Upon your wizened face
Will your thoughts turn inward
to salt in the sea
Or high fives at the pearly gate
Thus I write, for
Either option you’re free.
No matter who you are
Your story will include suffering
The hollow voice on the broken path
The stab to the heart that gives grief words
While most stand clear
Fearful to hear of sorrow’s wrath
Lest your mourning touch their funeral pyre
Of buried hopes, or broken dreams
Igniting flames of unquenched fire
Forget that you have stumbled, vision blinding
Faced dead ends, no need reminding
I just hope to God you get up again.