A Poem A Day #184: Night

“Night” by Mark Hastings was taken from Mark’s poetry collection ‘The Sound of Mark’ which was published in 2014 by Zeloo Media. Check out more of Mark’s poetry online @ http://MarkThePoet.Me – all poems © Mark Hastings

My Poem “BANG!”

I can smell smoke in the air –
I can smell the potent aroma
of a fire burning in the distance…
I can hear the sound of explosions
echoing from an unknown direction –
no doubt the early launches
of fireworks purchased
for Bon Fire Night, tonight –
November the Fifth,
“Guy Fawkes Night”;
however, because there is
a thick blanket of dark cloud
above my head, I cannot see
the glory of the colour
no doubt brightening the sky somewhere.

There is a fine downpour of rain
that falls upon my face
as I gaze above to see
if I can glimpse what I can hear,
what I can smell, what I can feel –
however, it seems almost impossible
to be able to see anything
beyond the clouds,
and even the light of stars
of the night-sky are unable
to penetrate through the
hovering mass of water vapour.

Then there is a break
in the thick clouds
and the twinkle of the stars
is slowly revealed,
and seemingly from out of nowhere
there is a sudden loud BANG!
at the same time that there is
an explosion of red light
that streams and stretches
down from the sky above
to fill my eyes and my mind
with wonder and a welcome
reawakening of awe –
and within no time at all
the rain storm ceases,
and the full majesty
of the constellations are exposed
in all their stunning
and magnificent
breathtaking beauty.

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My Poem “Insomniac”

During the early hours of the morning
I have been awoken,
my mind has been opened
like the creaking door of an old house,
and I feel something stirring within me…
the sky outside is still dark,
everybody around me is still asleep –
however, I cannot switch of,
nor retreat to the depths beneath
where I return to the realm of my dreams…
I try listening to soothing sounds,
I try listening to the music
of Vivaldi and Mozart
hoping that the beautiful
classical music will help me fall
into a delicate trance
like that of watching a falling leaf –
however, I am still wide awake
and it appears that the delta waves
of my brain were disrupted so severely
that they could no longer maintain
there normal restorative cycle
and pull me down and deep…
I turn off all the lights,
I lay my head down in a room of darkness,
I slow my breathing and I try
to concentrate on the white noise
of the stillness of the early morning,
and I hope that I will soon be able
to resume a mood of restfulness
and renew my state of snooze
by listening to the tune of The Sandman’s muse
and curing me of my insomnia.

My Poem ‘The Corsage’

It’s a beautiful thing…
it’s a beautiful time…
it’s a beautiful symbol
of eternal friendship
and of companionship…
it’s a beautiful gift…
it’s a beautiful memory
and a beautiful sign
of how much someone means to you…
I truly love the act
and the meaning of giving
the gift of a flower to somebody –
and it is at this time of the year,
in some places, when love blossoms
and shows itself between two people
and forever forges an unbreakable link.

Soon, teenagers from all over America
will be getting dressed-up
and going out with their dates…
soon, an afternoon of anticipation
will turn into an evening
of dreams coming true…
soon, the stars of night will come out
and young couples will dance and party
till the hour turns late…
soon, young men and young women
will return home after a night of magic
and reveling below the shine of the moon.

Everybody blossoms from a single seed of life
and of infinite potential and possibilities…
every child becomes the adult
that they will one day be slowly,
as they grow and as they are influenced
by everything that they feel, hear, touch, and see…
to their parents, children grow up before their eyes
and in their eyes too quickly –
every day as we all get older
we are reminded that the time
that we have on Earth is short,
however there lies its true-beauty…
we can do much, we can go far –
but the meaning of life is to love
and there is no better way to love
than to give the gift of a flower,
especially when it is prom-night
and somebody gives their prom-date
the most beautiful of all corsage.

My Poem ‘When the sun goes down’

When the sun goes down
on Halloween night,
when the werewolves howl
and the vampire take a bite,
when people walk the streets
dressed as clowns,
when trick or treats
are solicited and given out,
when ghosts haunt and the dead walk,
when costumed children
can be seen going door-to-door,
when the sky looks darker
than you ever thought it could,
when it is normal to dress
and express yourself
in a way that you may not
feel comfortable doing
at any other time of the year –
Halloween can be incredibly fun,
as well as the most perfect time
to face your inner-most fears.

When the sun goes down
and the moon is full,
when the stars are bright,
the universe that we are a part of
has never looked more beautiful,
when you see the spectacular
ribbons of energy of the Northern Lights
illuminate the sky,
the sight that you see takes your breath away –
there is no more magical and spellbinding
event to see that you will remember
for the rest of your life.

When the sun goes down
and another world awakens,
secret doors open wide
that lead to other dimensions…
the invisible becomes visible,
the imaginary becomes real,
the mysterious becomes audible,
the seemingly intangible
you can reach out and feel.

When the sun goes down
we are different people,
our faces are the same
as they are in the hours of daylight –
but more often than not
we show a part of ourselves
that no one else sees…
and at times of the year,
like Halloween,
when imagination knows no bounds,
you can always be sure
to see things that you have never seen –
especially when the sun goes down.

My Poem ‘Cherish the Light’

Light is a gift…
light is a beacon…
light is the life that we live…
light is a signal…
light is what paints the colours
and the hues of nature’s seasons…
light is what everything rises towards…
light is what highlights the beautiful…
light is the source
of what is constantly driving
every one of us forwards.

A life without light
is a very dark place indeed;
a night-sky without stars shining in it
is like a life without love – incomplete;
a life spent without artificial illumination
is one that truly understands the importance
of the sun and the moon to all our lives;
a child born in the glow of fire-light
who does not think to take it for granted
knows that light is the most important miracle
known to the entire universe,
and that the greatest repeating spectacle
that anyone can witness in life
with their eyes is the epic, silent,
beautiful, breath-taking,
ascension of the sun
at the moment of a sunrise.

It is almost heart-breaking to watch the sunset
and to see the world around you fall dark;
it is amazing to look up at the sky at night
and see an almost-infinite number of stars
beckoning and telling their silent stories
of space and time, distance and journey, life and death;
it is sad to think that because light and life is so precious
that it can so easily be taken away
as quick as extinguishing the life of a spark;
it is every living-thing on Earth’s right
to have a light to live by and gather-around –
light can be found on the outside,
however within our own mind and heart
there lies a light that is more important
to keep alive and burning bright until your last breath.

Cherish the world…
cherish people…
cherish the magical…
cherish love…
cherish the sun…
cherish life…
cherish imagination…
cherish the light.

My Poem ‘Ice Dreams’

Ice-skating in New York City;
building snowmen in London;
waiting to hear
if the groundhog saw his shadow
in Punxsutawney, Pensylvannia;
sitting in your living room with your children
while watching the movie ‘Frozen’;
collecting fire-wood;
going for long walks;
sitting in a cafe with a coffee and a good book;
meeting up with friends
and enjoying the company of someone
who you haven’t seen in a while
and having a good catch-up and talk;
wrapping up well in thick clothing;
wrapping gifts to be given to friends and family;
listening to seasonally-themed songs
playing on the radio that you can’t resist
the temptation to sing-along with;
the tradition of decorating a room and a tree
that when completely adorned
has the wonderful gift
of making all that look upon it
incredibly happy.

Everybody has a vision and a memory
of what Winter is all about;
to some people the cold temperatures
of winter are what they dislike the most
and they would gladly, if they could,
do without;
to me, it wouldn’t be Christmas especially
if it were not cold, cloudy,
and at any moment it did not feel
like it were about to snow at any moment –
I don’t think I could get used to
having a Christmas, in say Australia,
where it is as hot as the turkey
that is being served up on the dinner table
outside in the sun,
where as you are eating
you can smell the aroma
of food being cooked
on a nearby barbecue.

There are some people
who have never seen
a single real-life flake of snow
fall before their eyes;
their are some people
who have seen more winter days
to last a life-time;
their are some people
who could just out of their window
at a flurry of snow without ever getting bored,
while happily enjoying mulled-wine and mince-pies;
their are some people who know and love
that it is winter by the intoxicating smell of pine.

There is something about winter
that brings out different things in different people;
there is something amazing and beautiful
about how the light of the sun
shines on a winter day
and the way that it can make everything gleam;
there is something fairy-tale-like, and almost magical,
about a snow-covered world;
there is something about everything
that stirs the imagination
that calls back to memories of childhood experiences –
and though to some the thought of cold
and of snow might be their version of a nightmare,
everybody can remember every time
that they had a waking-
or a night-time envisioning
of a very memorable,
and a most-likely cold,
ice dream.

My Poem ‘Feelings’

As one book closes,
another story begins;
as a new book begins,
the eternal story continues;
as eyes open to greet new light,
eyelids fall under the weight of the stars
that shine above at night;
and while some rise high,
others cannot help but fall deep.

Every day we understand
more about our own lives;
every minute we wonder
what happened to all of our time;
every second our heart’s keep beating
to tell us that we can do more
with our gift of life;
every spark of thought
that comes to our minds
can be like the lure
on the end of a fisherman’s line
calling to, and connecting with,
both the past and the future,
the unforgettable
and the one of a kind.

The pages of time
flick back and forth
like leaves on the wind;
if you look closely around you
you may even see who and where
you were when you were younger;
whatever, or whomever, brings light
and joy into your life
will always be your best friend;
every moment only comes once;
every experience has a half-life;
everybody follows in the foot-steps of another;
embrace every chance of happiness;
enlighten the world with your smile and your grin;
live your dreams day to day and night to night;
in your life there will never be nothing,
because all that you need
will always be that which is closest to you –
we all have hands, fingers, eyes, and a mouth
to grasp and to show
the colours of our feelings.

My Poem ‘This New Day’

Each new day presents new challenges;
each new day we all leave new footprints;
each new day relies on its connection
to the day before
so as to rhyme with the day to come;
each new day is a choreography
and a mix of infusions
of many styles of dances;
each new day we see people pushing their limits;
each new day our closest star shines and burns
and keeps alive life on Earth,
and until we reach our dying day
that important star will always be our sun.

This new day, this new start,
this new time to play,
this new chain of moments
are ours to do with what we choose;
this new awakening, this new cycle,
this new rising, this new drum-roll,
is ours to make something vibrant and amazing with
just as glorious as the sky above is blue.

Every new day is a new poem;
every new poem is an entry in a diary;
every new page is written on
with the ink of inspiration and fascination;
every new thought is the first step
of a writer along the way
towards the penning of a brand new
creation of poetry.

One good morning;
one good afternoon;
one good evening;
one good night;
one new drawing;
one new moon;
one new inhale and exhale of breathing;
one new burst of beautiful sunlight
will lead and will be an important seed
that will grow like vines in a jungle
in many new directions,
and the more that we all follow
these extensions of our actions
the more new ground we too will lay –
and this process will continue
and it will go on and on forever,
and the future of tomorrow
will be made of what we all do
on this new day.

My Poem ‘Found’

I am so lucky,
I am so fortunate,
I am so blessed,
I am so grateful
to be able to say
that I am happy,
that I am in the place
in my life that I am at,
that I am able to sit here
and feel like I am at my best.

We all need light,
we all need hope,
we all want life,
we all want to show,
we all want to share,
we all want to care,
we all have a love in our life
that we surround ourselves with
which we hold on to tight;
we all have that something
or that someone
that we dream about at night;
we all have the right
to fight like a knight;
we all have to sometimes
run through fire
to get to the place
and to the person
that we most desire.

The world is not a solid sphere;
the people of Earth are as in motion
as the tectonic plates below the ground;
hope for a peaceful future
is the glue that keeps humanity
from completely fracturing
into a state of fear;
the people who choose
to leave their birthplace
and search for a better place
to call their home
should be allowed to find
and somehow regain
what they thought for the longest time
was forever lost and gone.

I see people looking for something;
I see people everyday
doing the best that they can;
I see people everyday tethering;
I see people everyday trying
to formulate any kind of a plan;
I see people on the move;
I see people standing still;
I see people with the optimism of youth;
I see people in search of a thrill.

Our planet is a beautiful place to live;
our planet is a beautiful place
to enjoy for all its glorious beauty;
our finite existence is a beautiful opportunity
for all of us to find and share
the meaning of all life
with that very special someone;
our lives are as they are for a reason,
and even though there may have been times
when life has been indescribably rough –
the true strength that you can have in life
is to keep believing that one day
you will be given the gift of total clarity.

A tree must shed its leaves;
a parent must let their offspring fly free;
a prosperous life must have both rain
and sunshine to thrive;
a person should not have to hide;
a kite must be lighter than air
to fly high and true;
an astronaut who braves
the outer limits of space
must also have a desire
to return to the ground;
a contradiction of differing emotions
and feelings is everybody and you;
a thing must sometimes be lost forever
so that one day by someone else
it can be found.