What is it but a drowning sorrow
as the sky weeps its release
What is it but a chilling fear
as winds scour the earth
What is it but silent heartbeats
as snowflakes settle one by one, by one
What is it but a waiting
an apprehension of thought
a waiting of age
soon to be lit
It is this
this very moment
when upon looking up
a butterfly in winter
shivers in its beautiful strength
shivers, and is gone
Sitting here watching a spider as it’s being blown by the wind while continually building its web.
It falls againt my window, gets blown about and dangles but time and again it carries on its repairs.
It’s a thing they do and not just the spiders but all those creatures out there. They just do stuff oblivious to life and its reasons.
They feel, but not in the same sense we feel as humans with our compassion and hatred, our anxieties, empathy and those maddening questions of life and the reality of it all, the reasons of being, of time and of religion and all those things we have no control over.
The spider is there still doing its thing and I’ve forgotten how to be something other than a failure.
If I just carry on regardless while being buffeted, and with those turbulent feelings in my gut of fear, love and something other that i can’t explain then maybe time will come to my rescue.
Perhaps the universe, in her wisdom, has a message for me in the spider, and as I write these last words the sun breaks through and I realise sometimes there is nothing we can do to change or to help so we have carry on while trying to bring our own light upon the world.
Magic arrives when it’s needed.
This message is ready for the few
for those souls
bereft of the beauty
we sometimes take for granted.
The beauty, of course, is not physical
but those things we feel
without and within
it is that echo
breathing, touching, vibrating
it is that echo.
Sometimes a sadness overshadows
a loneliness begins
a feeling of loss is found
and all we want is to escape
to close the curtains of our minds
and escape into the sorrows
where there is no light
but, where there is emptiness
there is of course, an echo.
It breathes with you and for you
for you are
that breathing echo
you are open to receive
those long searched for
alchemies of love.
Magic arrives when it’s needed
is already within us
within you now
breathing its echo.
in your beauty.
Hello all, I’m currently working on another collection of poems which will have a darker feel than After the Rain. I do have a title and theme but for now I’ll keep those to myself. I want to get as much done before I go back to work so I might be a bit quiet here, or I should say a bit quieter as I have been neglecting WordPress recently and I do apologise if I haven’t been getting around to reading your posts.
In the meantime if you fancy reading a bit more of my poetry then After the Rain is now available in a New Edition with a few poetic alterations inside plus a 5 star review on the back cover from author DM Denton, author of ‘Without the Veil Between, Anne Brontë’, who says I sometimes remind her of the Victorian poetess Christina Rossetti. The book contains over 100 poems and is available either from my Self-Publishing site here http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/Martin_Shone or from Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and other online stores.
Thank you all very much for your support.