Blank Page – a poem about courage

A beginning has boldness

To face up to the tyranny of the blank page

And not be afraid.

Then to dash headlong with the flow

Into the unknown where the Muse has gone ahead

To prepare a place for your thoughts to rest

In peace

Written in Thomas Hardy’s Study, Max Gate, Near Dorchester, Dorset.

At a desk overlooking the garden he delighted in.

23rd April, 2016.

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Pupils WIDE Open

ANIM183-Butterfly

Pupils W-I-D-E Open

The Caterpillar cried, “It’s the End of the World!”

The Butterfly sighed, “It’s the Beginning!”

The Caterpillar spat, “You’re mad and deranged!”

The Butterfly said then, “Just kidding!”

For when the student is ready,

The Master will appear.

But until that time arrives

You’d better not be clear!

{Instead}

Talk in parables and rhymes

In riddles and in stories

Or you’re words will be judged as crimes

Begetting hate, not glory.

Best to keep one’s mouth shut

In the presence of the ‘deaf’

For only when their ears are opened

Can you bring them life, not death.

Never force feed the satiated

Their glass not half but full

For they will rend you in an instant

Declaring you, “The Fool!”

You can tell when they are ready

By a twinkle in their eye

Only then, can you share reality

The Truth, and not their Lie.

Oh, half the World’s in darkness

The other in The Light

But which half’s which is tricky

Not clear as Day and Night.

I know those souls who are waiting

They’re often drawn to me

Their pupils anticipating

The words that set them free.

Seeking Revelation?

Then read behind my lines.

For hidden betwixt the syllables

Your lesson you will find.

But if you’re yet happy with your life

There’s no need to seek a pearl

Just soldier on until you twig

It’s the Ending of Your World!

Lex

My Spirit Is A Kite

My Spirit is a Kite

My Spirit is a Kite

And You, My Love, are the gentle breath on the breeze

Whispering to me,

Calling me higher,

Bidding me to soar with you.

But I am Earthbound

The earthen vessel of my body,

Temporary home for my heart.

Let us not yearn too soon for freedom.

My soul is the cord that connects us,

And it is strumming to the beat of your heart.

I can fly high enough in my own way,

A foretaste of that ultimate liberty

That is to come.

[Silent thought: But first, there is work yet left undone.]

 

Poem: Discovering the Kingdom

In the Spring of My Life

I knew it all!

(With no awareness

Of the coming Fall)…

 

Then Summer came

And I began to doubt

As all Life’s contradictions

Confronted and

Came out…

 

Only in the Fall

Does it all begin to make sense;

Now I can see the boundaries

And stop sitting on the fence.

 

So as the Winter of my life draws near

The occluding mists of Spring and Summer have cleared,

The Autumn fog at long last departs

And I can finally see clearly in my heart.

 

Yes, the Kingdom is within.

Poles Apart

Dove Bathes in Light

My light

Is a fragile light;

A candle flame

That may be easily gutted or is it guttered?

I don’t know…

Yet, still, by the soft warmth of

Your breath,

Inspired to a greater glow.

–ooo—

My heart

Is a heart of ice,

Behind shutters of bullet proof steel.

My protective shield

May be raised in an instant

And will remain constant;

I am imprisoned here

In this darkeness

Until I see

Your smile.