traditions
My Poem “Miraculous and Extraordinary”
All around the world,
today is the holy day of Easter Sunday…
today is the day which is remembered,
revered, and is considered remarkable by many,
because it is said that on the same day
two thousand years ago
Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was resurrected
and is said to have ascended;
and Easter Sunday is also the day
when those in the Northern Hemisphere
celebrate the beginning of spring,
and for centuries people have
gathered together and feasted
in honour of the Germanic
goddess of the dawn Ēostre –
and it is the symbols associated
with her worship where we get
our modern customs of owning rabbits
as well as the buying and the giving
of chocolate eggs to one another.
Today is an Easter and a Sunday
that many of us will remember
for many years, for many reasons –
just as people will always remember the Easter
that we all had to endure
at this same time last year,
when the vast majority of the population
of humanity had to start living
seemingly in bubbles of isolation
away from family, friends, and co-workers;
and a year on, the world is still trying
to find a way through to the other side
of this pandemonious world wide disaster –
but everywhere that I look
around the world there are
reasons to be hopeful and optimistic
that by this time next year
we will have found a way to adapt to,
get past, and resist the worst of
what is left of what we may
always have to live with.
Today is Easter Sunday
and to be honest I can think of
no better day to be truly grateful
for what each of us have
and who each of us have in our lives –
because each of us over the past year
have had to witness people
from all walks of life having to make
sacrifices
and changes to their life from which
there will never be a way back;
but what we never change for some people
is their ability to never stop believing
that with patience and time
the restrictions on livelihoods will end
and all people who are able
will once again be free –
and if there is anything that daily
impresses me about humanity it would have to be
how some people can keep going,
how some people can keep believing,
how some people can keep
keeping the faith, no matter what –
which, to me, is a supernatural power
that is both miraculous and extraordinary.
My Poem “Goes to my head”
The more that someone allows
the spirit of something to capture them,
the more that they embody
the properties of that spirit…
the more that someone becomes engulfed
in the wave of energy and emotion
that rises at a particular time of the year,
the more that they want to share
the joy that they feel with whomever they are with…
the more that someone succumbs to traditions
that mean something profound to them,
the more that they want to repeat
those same rituals time and time again…
the more that someone thinks about
how someone or something makes them feel,
the more that they do not ever
want to be away from the object of their affections –
and even the thought of being far away
can be enough to bring them to tears…
the more that someone strives to reach
a state of complete and utter happiness,
the more that someone will discover more
about what keeps their heart beating
and the thought of who and what
they love the most ticking…
the more that someone does something,
the more that someone can become addicted
to the way that special something
never stops making them feel –
sometimes something can fill a person
with such a glow that their heart and soul
can be seen shining like the tail of a firefly…
there are so many things that instantly
overcome me and make me forget
the last thing that I said:
inspiration, sunshine, music,
the beautiful face of my fiancé,
the knowledge of something new –
however, there is only one thing
that immediately gives me a rush of blood,
at the speed of light, that goes straight to my head,
and that thing is the feeling of love.
My Poem ‘Cherokee’
Every group of indigenous people,
from every country and continent
around the world –
within their history,
within their teachings,
lies a deep-seeded belief
and a connection with the world,
as well as a bridge to use
to understand the importance of life and death:
both the Aboriginal people of Australia
and the Native American Indians and their tribes
have always known that the planet that is our home
has a name, an identity, and a spirit all of its own,
and they have always seen and considered
the Earth that we all walk on
as if it were the skin of an astral being,
and that there are places that are sacred
and need to be protected – so that,
like so many places of natural beauty
that have been lost, there are places
that will always remain
as they are meant to be and unscarred.
There were no greater storytellers,
there were no greater warriors,
there were no greater teachers,
there were and there are no greater
people who remember their inspiring ancestors,
than the Native Indians of North America –
everything that I have been told,
and everything that I have learned,
has been a revelation to me –
and, to me and to lots of people,
I would point to my fascination with them
and to their amazing and timeless culture
as the source from which from every question
I have received an infinite number of answers.
Since the dawn of humanity,
since the moment when
the first of all of our ancestors began to believe
in what they could feel was out there,
but that which they could not see –
the many tribes and cultures that have risen
have believed in a greater divine higher-power
that seeks to communicate a meaning
and a way of life that can be discovered at any time –
even though it may sometimes appear hidden.
The traditions, totems, dreams, thoughts, emotions,
that indigenous cultures teach us to be mindful of –
the tribes that believe that the stars of the sky
are the eyes of our ancestors
watching over us from above;
mountains, monuments, deserts, valleys,
even to this day and always,
are places and trails to some people
who believe that there are some things
and some people who must never be forgotten;
spirit-guides, animal-guides,
are said to be all around us –
and when we dream, Native American people
teach that Earth and its people
share a constant dialogue of language
and inter-connected communication.
Everybody alive shares ties
with the first tribe
that made that first journey
and took those first epic steps
that to them must have felt
as if they were on a star trek
in search of who they were;
everybody of the modern world
shares traits with whom it was
who struggled to get us all
to where we are now –
even though the faces of those first people
have long-since disappeared into history,
in each of our cells and our DNA
there are important and integral lines
of their timeless poetry;
everybody at some time has felt a presence
with them in the dark;
everybody must never forget where we all came from,
and we must all never forget
that to understand what we do not know
about the life we all have, knowing who we is the key:
that is why I relate,
and that is why I subscribe in every way,
to the teachings and to the customs,
and to the insightful and the divine wisdom
of respect for all life of the Cherokee.
My Poem ‘It’s a tradition’
I love reunions;
I love keeping traditions;
I love catching up
and reconnecting with old friends;
I love being there when a friend of mine
is sharing their gift with me
live and in person,
that instantly transports me back
to a time way back when;
I love giving all the support that I can;
I love the feeling of hearing someone I know
remember me, mention me,
care that I am who they always know I am going to be:
a passionate, supportive, friend,
moon in orbit around them, life-long fan.
To forget a face is impossible for me;
to not be there when a friends calls out to me,
even from far away, is beyond imagining;
to overcome anything in my way,
to be where I am needed, is what I do;
to believe what I know and what I feel
deep in my heart and soul
is something I am proud of;
and if you know me,
then you will know that
that is nothing new.
Time-traveling is a passion for me.
I may not be able to physically travel through time,
but I have perfected the skill
that everybody has to quantum leap
back into the body and mind of their younger-self.
Time travel is not just something
that people can do in science-fiction –
it is a gift that for me is easy to do
and use to remind myself,
without changing anything
that might affect the present in any way,
what the most important things about life there are to remember,
and to hold on to them so they can’t ever drift away.
I do forget sometimes
how much I do share, and have shared, with people;
I often need reminding
who I am, and how lucky I am –
however, as soon as I hear a certain voice,
as soon as a particular song starts playing,
it is a moment for me that is beautiful,
and I again believe with every fiber of my being
that the universe does indeed have a plan.
I have always believed that traditions are important;
I will remember as much of my life,
for as long as I can, with a passion;
I am constantly learning about new and old ways
of not allowing things to be forgotten –
every day, in every way, everywhere on this planet;
I will continue to return, repeat, keep,
and remember that things and the places I am remembered for;
and for as long as I can, I will be there,
doing what I do, and keeping my own
meaningful and amazing traditions.
Mark The Poet 