The morning calls grey and darkling
while night travels west
seeking the ocean,
and another long journey
across the sea.

I rise once more from sleep
and travel to the heart of the world
on a colorless landscape.
Before light I think forgiveness,
of all who began this journey
and the few who yet continue.

What can we do except love
all that life has given us
and cleanse this darkness
of our own misdeeds,
while the world yet sleeps
and waits.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

9 Responses

  1. Thank you, Don. I bow in Acceptance. I share Blessing. I bring Compassion. I present these, the ABC’s of my Divine Nature, in passionate greeting of each dawning, thanks to each restful night.

  2. Hi, Don! Lo! She wakes! Meaning me…
    Lots going on in this poem I like, including the core question. Any chance you’d consider ending the poem with a question mark? Spelling gray the American way—although I wouldn’t blame you if you’re preparing to immigrate to Canada.
    “Darkling” is an interesting word choice because it instantly and irrevocably connects the reader in memory to Matthew Arnold:
    “And we are here as on a darkling plain
    Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
    Where ignorant armies clash by night.”
    The dreamscape tone in your poem certainly resonates with a corresponding tone in “Dover Beach,” although I was instantly ready for an anti-war poem and got a quiet dream landscape instead.
    But it IS a gorgeous word, and I’m glad to be reminded of it today.

    One more BUT–that word and its associations are so strong that what I take away is more a memory of “Dover Beach” than of your poem, which may not be what you want…but it isn’t a bad thing, either, as the two are now meshing quietly together in the back of my mind.

  3. “cleanse this darkness of my own misdeeds”
    To me, spirituality is practicality. For myself, I’m creating ways to release the trapped energy of my misdeeds.

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