The creation of anything, or anyone,
is not always as simple as it sounds…
art doesn’t spontaneously
emerge from out of nothing…
everything evolves because of experience -
what works, what’s compatible,
what makes it across the line,
what doesn’t work, what falls through the cracks,
for whatever reason;
however, sometimes there is no predicting
why one thing will endure over another…
the reason why something
becomes a trend to follow,
and why something else does not
leave as much of an impression and an impact,
sometimes has nothing to do
with anything other than time…
sometimes some things are not meant to be
appreciated at the time of their release
into the wider world and they are
only recognised for what they are long after
their voice has become an echo -
and sometimes, miraculously, something
can be given a new lease of life
and be rediscovered and rewarded
with what they were always entitled to…
there is more to life than what
could ever be read in a book,
and there is more to life than
anyone could ever know
from being told by someone else -
because life and people are complex,
and things such as a dreams,
or the spark of creativity,
are necessary to making life and people
what they are supposed to be…
in order to be able to make something
that wasn’t there before
you have got to be willing to go to the edge
of your understanding and allow yourself
to be carried away by the ideas
that capture your imagination
and can grow in strength to become
so powerful that they can seem to rival reality
and feel like magic…
every word of every spell and incantation
ever uttered by any storyteller and gatekeeper
is able to open more doors and more opportunities
for more things to come through
and make their presence known;
but in order to get something
sometimes you need to give beforehand,
and then the cycle of reciprocity continues,
over and over again, as life and people
repeatedly receive and then give back.
healing
My Poem “Grieve for Them”
What can be said… what can be done…
what can be read… what can be known
about how somebody is going to act,
how somebody is going to think,
how powerless somebody is going
to feel after they lose someone
who they have known all their life –
someone who they may not have seen every day,
someone who they may not have talked
to on a regular basis,
but someone who was always there
as a source of stability and faith,
and someone who they always loved.
Words can’t describe what certain
people go through after someone
they cared for unexpectedly dies…
some people feel numb, some people feel lost,
some people feel like they have misplaced
a part of themselves immediately after
they hear the tragic news that they
will never see someone again –
and sometimes the pain that is felt is so extreme
that it overpowers a person’s
natural ability to show their sorrow
with the tears of a cry.
It’s so sad to see people suffering
from profound grief to the degree
that they recede within themselves
both physically and psychologically –
not even wanting to leave
the coccoon of their bed to eat, to drink,
to wash their face, to dress themselves
how they normally would,
nor unable to convey the hurt
that they constantly feel in their chest
as their heart attempts to heal itself
after seemingly breaking into a million pieces.
It’s a long road back to normality
after you lose someone who always made
you feel special passes away –
there isn’t anything that anybody can do for you
other than to give you the time that you need
to come to terms with the hard reality
that death is the part of life
which nobody can do anything about,
but what each and every one of us can do
is to never forget all those people
who may have left us physically
but who will always be with us in spirit,
who may have seen something in us
that we may never have seen
and who may have known us
better than we could ever truly know ourselves
and who every day we will think of,
who will love always, who we will always honour,
who we will always remember,
who we will always be grateful for the gift of,
and who not a day will go by
when we will not grieve for them.
My Poem ‘Mourning in Paris’
It’s morning in Paris;
people from all over the world
are in mourning;
the city of love
has a shadow hanging over it;
the free world was rocked during the night
by the actions of the agents of darkness;
and when I close my eyes now,
I listen and I can hear
the sound of Paris’ calling.
There is a golden silence;
the smell of burning
still lingers in the air;
kisses are still being shared
on the bridge of sighs;
people are praying for peace
while standing at the feet of the Eiffel Tower;
all eyes are looking for the answer
to the question: why?
eyes still sting with pain
at the thought of all the innocent people
who last night lost their lives.
All violence is needless;
every loss of life is an open-wound;
taking the life of another makes no sense;
the day when all of humanity
wakes up to the truth
that all life is sacred
is long over-due and cannot come too soon.
Fear can be paralyzing;
hope is a way and the road to healing;
the only answer to anger and hate
is to carry on shining
like a search-light in the dark
and be a constant beacon of peace;
standing together in solidarity
and extending a hand to those who are in need
is the only way to accept
and to get past a tragedy –
and that is why it is important
in the morning to remember
those who we have lost…
and this morning,
I am in mourning
and I stand shoulder to shoulder
and hopeful for peace
for the people of the city of Paris.
Mark Hastings 