light
My Poem “Multitude”
This morning, I saw a distant light
shining from afar in the sky -
which was not the sun,
which was definitely not a plane,
and did not appear to be a drone;
however, the seemingly stationary light
that I saw from perhaps a mile away,
was enough to make me wonder
within my mind what it could be...
this morning, I also saw a white swan
and their cygnet swimming in a nearby pond;
and, as I watched the white swan
gracefully swim towards me,
almost immediately, I knew
that me seeing the swan,
and the swan seeing me,
was a sign of something significant,
a sign of something extraordinary
that has never been lost on me.
This morning, the sky is bright blue...
this morning, the light shines
unfiltered upon everything...
this morning, the chorus of caws
of the crows on the branches of their trees
are loud and distinctive,
just as the chirps of the robins
in the hedgerows are always
something sweet to hear
when they pay me a visit
as I proceed upon my path...
this morning, like every morning,
people carry out their daily rituals -
whether that is shopping,
reading, watching, or perhaps listening,
visiting one another,
doing what they must,
as well as being there for those
who need help the most.
This morning, every morning, even as a child,
I am awoken with a mind of dreams,
thoughts, feelings, inspiration,
and, of course, poetry...
this morning, every morning,
looks the same as those
that have come before -
but I always know that something is different,
I always know that something,
somehow, somewhere, has changed...
this morning, every morning,
I love being up early to see
the last lights of the night,
the first light of the day,
and be witness to the moment
when silence becomes filled
with the sounds of a symphony...
this morning, every morning,
I know more than I am told
about life, the world, the universe,
and I instinctively feel the peaceful
harmony of the natural world
and the beginning of another wave
of that which binds everything -
both living and departed -
together beyond the limits
of the divine, eternal, and constant message
that is seen and interpreted
by everybody, everywhere, every day
in a multitude of ways.
My Poem “Follow Your Heart”
Follow your heart,
even if your head tells you not to...
Follow your heart,
even if you do not at first know
what it wants you to do...
Follow your heart,
because your heart is literally
what drives you...
Follow your heart,
because your heart is
the one thing about you
that has been there for you
and has kept you alive
throughout everything that you
have had to go through.
Our imagination is where we dream
and where we find our ideas
for what we want to make real...
our memories are the roots of the garden
where the flowers of the seasons
to come of our life will grow...
our relationships, how we are perceived,
and how we perceive others,
are what we use to build the picture
within our mind that we hold on to
and constantly refer back to...
our achievements -
personal, as well as professional -
are what act as lighting rods
that ground us whenever we may
find ourselves surrounded by
chaos on an unimaginable scale...
our intentions are not always
going to be selfless,
because everybody is human
and sometimes selfish -
but as long as no harm follows
in the wake of our actions
then we should all sometimes
explore opportunities with the same
enthusiasm of life as that of a child
that can sometimes manifest itself
spontaneously and out of the blue.
There is always a reason for everything...
There has to be more than meets the eye...
There is always something that
captures our imagination
more so than something else...
There has to be a first,
and there has to be a last -
but in between those two extremes
there will always exist a world
of possibilities and poetry
where and when so much can be
witnessed, felt, read, heard,
thought about, and dreamt of...
there is so much that you can learn
from simply listening...
there is always more to gain
by choosing to try...
there are so many people
who can empathise with the pain
and the suffering of someone else...
there are always going to be things
that happen to us that will shake
the ground beneath our feet,
that will disturb the equilibrium within our thoughts,
that will test us with the curse of uncertainty -
but everybody has to fight
every day to find the strength
to do what must be done,
to be able to feel what we have
always known we would have to feel,
to climb out of the darkness
where we can sometimes find ourselves,
and by following our heart
we can come to realise that
there are more things possible
than there are imaginable.
A Poem A Day #627: A Light in the Dark
‘Playing God’ by Mark Hastings (2018) – audio book: The Man in Black – “The Lux Stops Here”
A Poem A Day #617: The Candle
A Poem A Day #580: Solaris
A Poem A Day #573: Golden
A Poem A Day #568: Celestially Lit
My Poem “Darkside of the Muse”
The muse of an artist can be beautiful... the muse of an artist can literally radiate with light... the muse of an artist can take them to the infinite possibilities that lie far above the clouds and beyond the blue... the muse of an artist can stay with you your entire life; however, as with everything that exists in a state of balance, where there is light, there is always dark. Inspiration is everywhere - in everything, in everyone - and it can compel artists, especially, to do many things and to go to many places that might, ordinarily, seem out of character... Inspiration - mixed with intense emotion - can send those capable of interpreting the poetry of the world - in colours, music, pictures, or with words - off on a tangent from which the road to return might not be one that is straight and narrow. Day and night, the love felt by artists radiates and echoes beyond their thoughts and dreams - and sometimes when an artist meets someone new who immediately touches them and transfers something incredible and powerful to them, a change can be felt, sensed, read, heard, seen, in everything that the artist does, and creates; and when an artist's heart is inevitably broken, it can feel as if a black hole has opened up within them, and they can find themselves walking a path upon which they feel as if they no longer have anything left to lose... just like the shadow of the moon, just like someone in a bad mood, just like the explosive that ultimately lies at the end of burning fuse - there is always a light side and a darkside of the muse.
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