Archives for category: Poetry

I look to the hills:
Where does my help come from?
Not from the plethora of gods
Not from the tribal gods
Not from the monotheistic Gods
But from the natural world
The earth, wind and fire
The sun, moon and stars
The pond, river and sea
The tree, bush and flower
The land and sea creatures
The birds of the air

Advertisements

The cinnamon dove clung to the branch of the autumn Australian flame
He hung on in the gusting wind, this dove with the incredibly long name
His body said, don’t worry I am very happy all the same
He fanned his tail, stretched his wings, preened his feathers without being in any way vain

Solid earth, vacant sky
Wind so strong, land so dry
Mother earth you never lie
I will trust you ’till I die

Water enough to wet my eye
Water enough to make me cry
Wind enough to help me fly
Wind enough to make me wonder why

The rain will come bye and bye
The sun will say goodbye
The moon will reveal the reason why
And I will trust you ’till I die

To comfort the dying
To dry the tears of the crying
To give comfort to the sighing
To expose the lying

To give hope when there is none
To grow faith while there is some
To pray for no one
To follow the only one

To carry on when belief is dead
To ensure the books are always read
To preach when everything’s been said
To travel where others fear to tread

To hold science and faith together
To view the gloomy satellite image and pray for sunny weather
To teach “creation versus evolution” ’till he’s at the end of his tether
To recite the creeds and doctrines at the drop of a small bird’s feather

If you can see yourself in another
If you can see the pain in his face
If you can see that you are not so very other
Then you deserve to be in this place

If you can see the trembling hand
If you can the terror in his eyes
If you can see and truly understand
Then you deserve to be in this place

If you can see behind the mask
If you can see his anxiety and fear
If you can see that all you have to do is ask
Then you deserve to be in this place

The fight is done, the battle won
Life’s been good under the sun
Learned much, had great fun
Time to quit, time to run

What good to fight again
Prove something, what to gain
I’ve raced in sun and rain
I’ve kept my head, I’ve stayed sane

Let me heed the writing on the wall
Continue walking tall
Not be afraid to fall
With courage face the final call

Its time to quit!

 

Thinking of a friend who received a bad diagnosis

Trudging ‘cross mindless sands us hominids
Catching glimpse of universes yet unnamed
Struggling with visions sometimes sordid
Trying to get why we’re often blamed

Countless pillars loom before us
Propping theories yet untamed
What is true and what is false evades us
Brains befuddled by ideas still unclaimed

Where’d we come from, where’re we  going
All these millions some still chained
Reason becomes a hostage sewing
Garments of false hope ongoing

Wake up in the morning…wonder where I am
Why was sleep so fleeting, such a blooming sham
Would I could go back to sleep
And count those blooming sheep

Wake up in the afternoon…wonder where I am
Why did I have to wake at all, such a blooming scam
Would I could go back to never-never land
And make my dreams expand

When I look into your eyes
and you look into my eyes
What do we see
another sentient being
or a spark of eternal being

Is there something
or is there nothing
What do we see
a fast fading reality
or a life beyond ability

I have an on-going internal war
between nihilism and something more
What do we see
a fragile life of limited span
or an eternal soul that can…

A pair of guinea fowls walk slowly along a tight rope
The skinny branch of an old pine tree
They make me think of someone clinging to hope
Someone strangely like me…

A pair of guinea fowls perch on a metal motor gate
The gate is activated but they don’t move until the gate post makes them
They make me think of someone who can’t let go of hate
Someone strangely like me, ahem!

A pair of guinea fowls browse on the lawn
The dog gives chase and feathers fly
They make me think of someone filled with scorn
Someone strangely like me, oh why?