Poems about big life events and small daily experiences. Even about rock climbing.

There is still beauty  |   When the shock wears off  |   Fabulous Friction  |   We set out a long time ago  |   The last picture


 
There is still beauty (November 2016)  Listen to the song on soundcloud

Friends, do not forget: there is still beauty
When the darkness comes and shadows fall,
Music, Art, and nature, gentle comforts
When despair is deep and hope is small.

Friends, do not forget: there is still laughter
When we've finished choking down our tears,
When the world seems full of desolation
And we grit our teeth and face our fears.

Friends, do not forget: they have not taken
Kindness, love and friendship from our hearts.
If we can resist the hate and anger,
Maybe we can be where healing starts.

We will rise again tomorrow morning,
Sunshine follows even darkest night.
Think of this when you feel close to breaking
As we walk the long road to the light.


When the shock wears off

The only thing to do is carry on
And be a light that shines bright in the dark,
Live love surrounded by a sea of hate,
Give hope as antidote to crippling fear.
Write poems, sing a song, make art, join hands
With sisters in a circle. Do not fall
In darkness and despair: this too shall pass,
And we will stand and raise our voice again
And reason will prevail some better day.

November 8, 2016


Fabulous friction,
Your magic transforms
The steep rock into footholds.
In delicate balance
We dance on invisible
Stairs to the summit.


We set out a long time ago.
Years stretched before us, like a vast land,
With pathways and hills to explore
We journeyed. But much too soon
We are nearing the shore of the sea
And my heart is heavy.
For you will embark on a ship
That will carry you to a country
I cannot see in my dreams.
Sure footed, you will step aboard
And maybe glance backwards once.
I shall remain on the shore,
Sand flowing through my empty hands.


The last picture

The house sighs.
It has heard it before:
how the stairs creak
under halting steps,
more slowly each day.

With dusty eyes,
it looks out
on the leaf strewn patio.
The pathway between the hedges
has grown narrow.

The house remembers
laughter
giving way to hushed voices,
rooms that feel heavy with sadness.
After a long silence,
the bustle of strange feet,
then emptiness.

On the wall
a faded rectangle remains,
shadow of a green landscape.

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