What is our life, that we so full of fear’s white noise
are cowering hidden behind our long ashen shadows.
Each morning we rise with the rainbow prism of possibilities
held in our cold damp hands and each time place it aside.
We talk of priorities, politics and finance like the whine of electricity
that is seeping through the leaking pipe of our aching bodies.
Greetings of weather forecasts, compliments and head nods
we plough the time and air together endlessly with our clocks.
Around us the world does not stop and stare at our madness
It does not arrest our burning flames, our charring bones.
It patiently waits, turning on its axis, meandering between
night and day, sauntering into the seasons, blending colours softly.
This morning I will cast open the curtains, chasing the fear away
and hold this crystal up to the sunlight, releasing my soul to fly.
(Dedicated to Arthur Jenner, beloved father, grandfather and great grandfather who passed away, aged 91 on Good Friday 06/04/12 the morning I wrote this poem. Who I will always love and miss)