Another Time

Another Time

 

In the head

Ideas buzzing, flitting, zipping

Around and around

Up

And

D

o

w

n

Then

Reverie interrupted:

A birdsong

Strong and insistent

Calls

Us to the present.

The ideas stop

The buzzing ceases

And

Aware we become

To another time

Another rhythm

Before our calendars

After our clocks.

The refreshing sounds

Of natural rhythms

Call us back

To who we are.

 

 

Simon C.J. Falk 25 March 2016

 

 

 

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Fall

Fall

 

Moving along

Slowly

Faltering.

The dizzying head

The jelly legs

Sway

And crumble

The earth holds

The weight –

No further to fall.

 

Then

Comes the decision:

Get up

And go again?

Stay awhile

Resting on terra firma?

Surrender

Give up?

Until

You become

Another’s burden

Borne as their load.

 

 

Simon C.J. Falk 25 March 2016

 

Olive

Olive

Olive

 

Seed

Shoot

Shrub

Tree.

 

Shelter for birds

For creatures

And weary wayfarers.

 

Ripe for picking

Plucked

And

Pressed.

 

Oil

For table

Oil

For skin.

 

Salve

For civilians.

 

Humble olive

Shoot across time

Bough of memory

Branch for our peace.

 

 

Simon C.J. Falk

 

Toad and Turf

Toad and Turf

  
Toad and Turf

Texture and travel
Of toad and turf

Moving to moisture

Both hurting in the heat.
What a gift

To look at their longing

Wanting for water

Looking for life.

Simon C.J. Falk 16 March 2016

Paradox

This moving poem is from one of the fine poets I have the privilege of following on wordpress.  Thanks again AB. 

———-

You say: They don’t really care about us (or was it MJ) Humanity keeps its poor in cages, Favelas, in slums No water to drink No fire to burn even our sorrow No hope for tomorrow Rich becomes…

Source: Paradox

Too many… The Forgetting

Too many…. The Forgetting
It can be a great way of renewing yourself  to move to new places and among new people.  But when you see some people at a later date, and have not recalled their name, it is very frustrating. I also feel for them.  When they have made the effort to come and reconnect, and are not recalled, they may feel diminished.  This little poem is about such an experience.

Too many… The Forgetting

Too many places,

Too many times,

Too many faces,

Too many climes.

Days come and years go,

The variety adds a fresh rigour,

But more names join in the row,

And it’s tests the memory’s vigour.

I turned up at a function,

And saw someone I should know,

I struggled hard for context and name,

But the thought process didn’t flow.

It wasn’t until later,

Driving off in the car,

The recognition came upon me,

And I could exclaim ‘Aha!’

It is a disappointment,

To let others down this way,

No doubt some readers feel this frustration,

And experience this dismay.

Simon C.J. Falk 13 March 2016

A Moment

A Moment
A moment

In time

Seeing

The water droplets 

Falling

On the pathway.

Pathway to peace

A moment away

From the tenuous

The time-poor

The manifold stuff

Of life.

A simple sprinkler

For the lawn

Leaves us a moment

Of bounty.

Simon C.J. Falk 10 March 2016