There’s light in the distance
where water shines
though the island is buried
under gray clouds
beside a gunmetal sea.
Years past the story goes
we fell under the wings of a dark angel,
so long ago we can’t remember
original color or the taste of freedom.
“You best be still and accept your fate”
the elders told me, while by my eyes
they knew I wasn’t a believer.
Most of them are dead and buried
while I keep dodging bullets.
Silently I move from word to word,
to melt the bonds of the sleeping.
Awake in the greenwood,
I tear another page from the Book of Life
and feed it to the wind.
Reading of “Tear Another Page” by the author
Absolutely riveting Don, glorious, spellbinding in the mystical manner and gesture that breaks the spell in all whom are able to receive into themselves these fiery words, flowing week after week from the Arch-Druid in the greenwood. I am with you in the greenery, moving from Word to word. Torn from the page, this poem begins a volume that is quite, quite new
To melt the bonds of the sleeping…that is our purpose……
Hello Don: This is living in beauty and knowing it, for it surrounds us daily. Keep in that space and let others know it and feel it. Best wishes for a very long life ahead.
The lack of a surround of music seems appropriate for your words today, as if they need to stand starkly alone, unadorned, a keen blade so strong it plunges unhindered into the stone of resistance.
So beautiful!
“Silently from word to word” weaving and casting the tapestry of life…🙏❤️
BRAVO, BROTHER!
Another lovely offering. This one has a mystical quality that evokes deep thought from me. I read it as an elders hymn to life.
Opening a crack to let the son’s light in is a step. Letting the sun ☀ light out is greater.
At first sight of the large title font, “Tear Another Page”, my inner Ear “saw” words from Above, “HEAR Another Page”. (See what I’m sayin’?)
Albeit I may nod, smilingly yet distantly, to any “elder” self-conceptions ghosting my now fictional past, I feel such revival in turning a new page — one with depths of Reality born in the eternal Present Moment (Ours).
What a blessed habitation timelessly awaits, outlasting anything past.
Ha!
I love it! This is a psychological landscape so many people share. You’re finding those deep archetypes like “dark Angel” that bypass the conscious mind and strum those cello strings.
I did pause at the word “beside” in:
There’s light in the distance
where water shines
though the island lies under gray clouds
beside a gunmetal sea.
You have four prepositional phrases in a row there, but when you peel those back to the core sentence, you get “There’s light…beside a sea.”
Which doesn’t ring exactly right to me.
But a fine poem that jumps deftly from rock to rock across the stream to the successful dismount.
I was happy to read this as it describes an interior landscape not my own but vividly evoked.
Thanks for this one, Don. It hit a spot.