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Monday, 13 March 2017

A Book In Time Saves Nine


Started work on the “Classification” book, I just thought, as a sideline, a few pages a day would make a book in time.

A book in time saves nine.

Classification


Cinquain
morning
sun singing out
warming and siren like
inviting me to come and see
outside

50 Word Story
there are fields 
which hold pots of fairy gold
waiting to be found 
by those prepared to swap wanderings 
for journey
as intentions firm
options grow fewer
no longer having a hold
before the setting of the sun
unremembered promises must be kept
their meanings becoming clearer daily
deep inside

300 Words
Another seam perhaps? Without application and discipline all the maps, tools and gold in the money bag, discovery and exploration become impossible. Taking up the burden daily is the only way forward, laying down the burden daily, same thing, no one really knows the way of it. 

Said, join in the dance
said, form a ring
said, stoke it higher
said, see how they smile
said, joy is the game
said, all ends in love.
The old ones are always present 
engaged in the daily run 
making us laugh and cry in equal amounts 
as did they in their own ways
on this good earth

So we make guesses
call them truths
building ever higher towers
tottering over our insecurities
as if that weren’t enough
teetering on the brink of something
almost unable to bear the tension
building walls to keep out the space 
between us suffocating 
in stifling air

Who will free us from all this
who will lead us out 
into the safety of the wilderness
no one answers
very well then
this is how it will be
until the tower falls and
honest ignorance is allowed a say
we will ruck and maul around
as if in some game in which 
truth's severed head is passed from one to each 
back and forth until the setting sun draws our game 
to a close 
leaving all tainted
blood on our hands
sweating and worn out we collapse 
confused 
melded into mud.

Seek another way
step out bravely
sit by stream
walk by river
garden
read
listen

Hope is a desolate field
in which we sow our seed
until we find our daily golden bread
and learn to forgive ourselves
over and over again
I know the tune
it’s just the words that I forget 
from time to time.