Everybody has that where,
everybody has that when,
everybody has that place
and that time which matters to them…
everybody has that bubble,
everybody has that parallel world,
everybody has that mirror to step through
when they want to retreat into themselves
and create a space away from the outside world…
everybody from a young age chooses somewhere –
whether it be in front of a screen,
or in between the ear-buds of a pair of headphones,
or within the pages of a book,
or interacting and sharing with others socially
over an interconnected world wide network –
that always makes them feel comfortable and at home,
and when they are there the magic that they find
is sometimes impossible to put into words…
everybody needs a refuge, everybody needs a paradise,
everybody needs a universe within themselves
where they can dream, imagine, and play-out
things that need to be explored
that could one day be brought out
and manifested into the real world
and be transformed from meta-physical
into a physical and solid totem of peace…
everybody has the key to their own place within
where they go to to feel for a short time
that feeling of euphoria that awaits us all
when we return to our own private safe place.
refuge
My Poem ‘The Umbrella’
The greatest escape on a rainy day,
the best cover to tie you over
from the lightning and the thunder;
whenever, wherever, you are
something akin to the sun of a Summer’s day;
a perfect oasis and the most serene place
of peace of mind and spirit;
that which when you hear it playing
is literally music to your ears,
that is personal –
but can also be shared in a different way
with people that you are in constant contact with,
that both stimulates all kinds of emotions and tears –
the thing that is so intrinsic to you
it is almost a part of your soul;
the coat of protection
that helps you brave the winter’s cold.
Like the roots of a tree,
like the canopy of a forest,
like the ground beneath all of our feet,
like the constituents of a bird’s nest,
we all have things above us, below us,
and around us, that ground us,
and that inspire us and amaze us
over and over, and without them
we would not be who we want to be,
and we would not be blessed with life’s
invisible, natural, but always present, poetry.
When the rain stops falling,
when the clouds part
and the sun shines again,
when life emerges from where it has been hiding,
as the writers continue to drive
the swirls and the course
of the ink of their pens,
when the Earth settles
and a brand new set of ripple effects
echo throughout the world,
like raindrops falling on the water of a pond,
when new experiences and new thoughts
accentuate and strengthen already deep-seated bonds,
when you need a shelter to wait for a break in the weather…
take out, unveil, open again,
that which has always served to be your refuge
and your constant umbrella.
Mark The Poet 