Hiraeth

A single word hangs, shimmering, in the late afternoon light.
A note, sung softly, chimes like a bell calling the faithful
To worship and revere a god that lives between dry pages.
A dust mote dances, and invites the watcher to join it in
A reel to the music of time.
And all the time, there is no time, but there is all time,
And time is measured by breaths, longer for the ones
Not taken, and the soft sigh of the falling dusk echoes
Across the faded gilt of the sunset's dregs.
No waves can carry back to the shore the hopes
That were cast overboard, no swift flowing tide can
Recapture the dreams that spun and wove a
Delicate web of promise.
Only the land is eternal, and yet it is not,
Only the seas can hold the tears that are cried
And yet they cannot, for all that is infinite is
Truly finite, and is held in the palm of my hand.

(c) 2ndwitch, 28/10/16

Reality, and pink cheese

On the internet it is possible to find advice
On just about any topic at all.
It is especially common to find well-meaning
Articles suggesting that the reader should
Stop living in the past, and
Stop criticising themselves, and
Stop being negative, and should
Go out and do what they want, and
Go out and live their dreams, and
Go out each day as though there were
No tomorrow; and tomorrow and tomorrow
Whereon creeps, said the man from Stratford,
Is when the innocent reader steps
Out of their front door, determined
To follow all the advice; and tomorrow and tomorrow
Is when again and again the innocent reader
Falls flat again and again; and tomorrow and
Tomorrow is when the innocent reader either
Realises that life is not a picture of kittens on
Some social media site, or does not so realise.
In the former case, the daily drudge doubles
In its burden; and in the latter case
The innocent reader is plain deluded.
It is not possible to go out and just live
Your dreams, unless your dreams encompass
Slogging round Asda, your boots leaking,
And the cat being sick on the living room floor.

© 2ndwitch, 17/02/16

In memoriam

so kiss goodbye to romance
let her dance where the dragonflies dance
in the flash of clear light
where the day meets the night
let her dance where the dragonflies dance

let the mourning bells ring
and pause while the mockingbirds sing
where that one final tune
wreathes stars round the moon
and pause while the mockingbirds sing

stand and wait at the edge of the grave
while grass whispers and red poppies wave
the soft sigh of the breeze
calls to oceans and seas
while grass whispers and red poppies wave

breathe farewell on one last longing sigh
send your love where the butterflies fly
cast your grief to the clouds
wear your black cloth like shrouds
send your love where the butterflies fly

and take this, then, the last chance
to dance where the dragonflies dance
in that flash of clear light
where the day meets the night
you can dance where the dragonflies dance

© 2ndwitch, 24/06/15

We're oblivion.

A reaching arm, slow and hesitant,
Touches nothing, and withdraws again.
A hand, softly sweeps errant hair
Back to one side, and then falls back.
One tear, fought against, but failed
Slides down the cheek, and dries.
There is no tomorrow, there is no
Today, and only yesterday, and
All the sorrows there within remains.
And all the sorrows there, faded to monochrome
And softing in grey, drape gentle
Cover to the grieving soul, always
Pretending comfort, whilst holding
Back the warmth of colour, and
The possible promise of hope
In the morning sunlight's pool of gold.
Secrets untold.
Secrets untold.
There is no hope, no looking forwards
Once your life has been set back.
Loss, longing, and never knowing.
And so many lies.

© 2ndwitch, 16/06/15

My thanks to several songwriters for thoughts and feelings that have combined to give life to the above, including Iain Thomson, Martyn Joseph, Dougie MacLean, Jim King; and to Ivan Drever for the melody that sits beneath the words.

Starting Over.

Please let me live in land of dreams, where the weather is
Always in keeping with the season and the available
Choice of clothing.
Please let me live in a land of my imagination, where
I always have friends who never lie and who
Are there when I need them, and I for them.
Please let me live in a land of make-believe
Where no-one is hungry or homeless,
And where all can work according to their
Ability, whatever that is, for all are able at something.
Please let me live in a land where the will of the
People is the sovereign will of those who govern,
And where none is set on a pedestal.
Please let me live in a land of plenty, where
I can always eat food that I like and that likes me.
Please let me live in a land where doctors and dentists
Treat everyone regardless of their colour, shape, gender
Or bank balance.

There are those who would say I ask for too much,
But I do not think so.
I think we can create a world like that, and we can
Imagine a world where there is peace.
And we can, because we are infinite, take
Control of life, and using our own hands,
Make it real.
Please let it be.

© 2ndwitch, 31/0/14

Inspired to some degree by the optimism of John Lennon, and by the people who want change.