Fields of Broken Dreams
There has been much sadness in our world and nation of late. Added to this, each of us has a network of loved ones weighed down in difficulties of their own. Yet, in all of this, the goodness of humanity still abides. This little rhyme wrestles with the pain and the potential of such a paradox.
Fields of Broken Dreams
Sometimes it feels as if we walk
Through fields of broken dreams,
Wishing as we face the odds
That it wasn’t as it seems.
We grieve the air disasters,
Where lives flew off in a plane,
To the final sounds of “Alright, goodnight!”
Then they were never seen again.
Lives that had been a-flying
Were shot down from the sky,
Followed by calls to ‘shirt-front’ the responsible,
And still, we know not why.
Then, closer to the home front,
Fires blaze across the land,
Ashen faces lament ashen places,
And many houses no longer stand.
Then there’s all our local sadness,
The dead, the dying and the lost,
The marriages that are no more,
Make both the measured and measureless cost.
As we face up to it,
And walk through the rubble of these fields,
We fossick through the stubble,
For any meaning that it yields.
As the ashes moisten
From the dew and soaking rain,
As the beloved bodies are buried,
And people go home again.
As the sands of time grind onward,
And the broken pieces rot,
A healing slowly grows within,
Till we see what we have got.
The broken shards of pottery
Form drainage for a newly potted shoot,
For from the stench of rotting compost
New life is forming root.
We bare our scars of brokenness,
Shining in new springtime sun,
And from our anguish comes compassion,
As we realise we are one.
For we all feel it in our guts,
For those trapped in the Lindt shop,
Our hearts too plunged in the ocean
As the aeroplanes did drop.
We walk these global fields together,
Through the ashes and by the streams,
And we’ll walk on to tomorrow,
With more wisely tempered dreams.
Simon C.J. Falk 7 January 2015
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Simon's still stanza 
Beautifully moving Simon