There was a time when we loved the sun, counted
those unquenchable flames as one vast illumination
lying deep in the impenetrable night;
brooked no corruption of its beauty
as it gave life to the little blue dot we call home.
But things, as they do, change;
we no longer decay serenely
and in the choking of the air,
the dulling of stars,
treachery shows its withered hand;
and summer is no more the ripening grain,
the scent of apples kissed by sun warmed rain.
So, where do we go from here?
From the unholy precision of progress,
the slick complexity of motor cars;
of foible, fault and fields unsung,
of savage deed and desecrations done,
that chart the glacial shift and slide
that none can stop, yet none wish to abide.
Well;
perhaps we should be brave and call a thief a thief,
accept our reign as mercifully brief.
For madness is our master now and where seeds fly
and where they land, have none of
grace or guidance from my hand;
nor can I speak and hear my voice ring out,
as the winds of change forever blow about.
I thought that I could read this one, this time, with dry eyes…not so. It is pertinent and poignant and timely.
I am ever thankful that the road led here to this regathering of poets, to this sharing of words and soul that
binds this group together.
Not only does it do that, it showcases the power of great poetry and the strength of an agile pen.
Sarah
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So many pleasing sounds to the ear within this poem.
And of course the message strong and clear
wrapped within such lovely words.
Much enjoyed.
take care,
Kerri
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Douglas,
Poignant poem , no one knows to where the road to tomorrow leads. It feels like a wary one though.
Perfectly written and stated.
groetjes,
Francina
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Ah yes Douglas… those winds of change, so wonderful at times, so merciless on occasion. A most compelling read.
Regards,
Maryse
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