Absolution

I walk beyond the fatal shore

to see what gaze can bring

and dance like a disciple

rescued by the leader’s ring

will he answer all my prayers

and welcome me to home

and be the man I always hoped

would save me from alone

the wind howls in the morning mist

and hollers strident dreams

when I walk past that fatal shore

nothing is as it seems

the distant cry from moonlit sky

the sudden chance that storm

would tolerate another cause

and keep so many warm

I hear it in horizons –

yet to see what can become

like a photographic still shot

abandoned by the sun

as I walk by it feels so shy

yet heats toward the core

sensing a shimmer out at sea

I’ll never want for more

and if my treasured trove is found

I’ll welcome others in

vow to remain a measured strain

absolved of all my sins.

the willow tree

He walks beside the willow tree

the shade is sure his friend

the road seems long and far away –

will he ever reach the end

The sparrow chirps above his head

the grass, so green, below

the stream awash with dancing sun

he sees its ebb and flow

How long has willow been there

will she ever go away

or is her place by stream in park

his shaded overlay

She spans so many moons and then

he holds life – all his own

and sits upon unwelcomed crown

discarding what he knows

Her broken twig will reproduce –

no urgency or haste

holding the crown he puts it down

the tree has time to wait

She passes time – for who; she asks –

beneath you, the ghost chimes

she looks below and with a glow

grasps him in weeping vines.

You left

I’m lost – you left me – 
why did you pass me by
I need your leadership
your love – your sense that
yes, it’s worth a try

Like a tree – standing taller
you lift my sense of being
why did you go
I need you so
you are my fallen beam

A captain for a few years
but a soldier many more
and devoted to a family
at times seen as a chore

Yet your children become leaders
your wife of three score and ten – the sky
go – she is a-waiting
as I shed tears you rise and fly

Vale George H W Bush

Gratitude

I see shallow children through the window

playing by the beach

with parents pushing swings so high

as high as they can reach

The road is slow, the traffic locked

‘til lights change and we move –

drivers with one thing on their mind –

or a thousand thoughts tossing

turning – all of different kinds

Hatchbacks, four-wheel-drives, sports cars

and the odd sedan – Diane,

Mustafa, Willow, Jake and John –

going… going… going –

coming from

The dash reads 8:47 –

fourteen minutes I’ll be late for work

I take a u-turn ‘round the round-a-bout

and then I drive below the tower where

I spend my day – with hopes to thrive

We come from varied pasts – across

the ditch, from southern states

Little Canada – beyond

so disparate, no fear –

in one place at one time

conducting lives we call careers

Working for a second income

striving for promotion for the few

or waiting for a better role beyond –

beyond the horizon past the window past the view

What then for head-sets, staring –

screens aware that eyes are fading

as they read data duller by the day

What then… what then is there to say…

I walk outside at lunch and see a man –

a man with wrinkled face and time to spend

pushing a trolley housing home

along a path that has no end

Next morning there’s a needless noise

outside – a bird is chirping –

sitting atop the street sign

on the corner in my view

I consider him a moment

a happy chap – gratitude his friend –

a noisy miner singing to the few –

Graciousness is holding my hand, too. 

—————

 Not what we have but what we enjoy constitutes our abundance
(Epicurus)