Sunday, 10 May 2020

Maybe then...







Maybe when aeons of rivers flow down
to the sea, maybe when lightyears of time
stand ripened, rippling in the autumn sun,
when gallons and gallons of hymns and homes
are blown out embers, landfilled out of town  
when fathoms of feet have trampled stations
maybe then, maybe then? maybe then…


Maybe when memories turn blue black, grown
into the sky, fade inward to smoke and grime,
maybe when the weight of stories equals millions,
when miles and miles of birds and biomes
slink out slowly, escape this long lockdown
to love again - always an affliction,
maybe then, maybe then? maybe then…








15 comments:

  1. We will have to leave our lockdowns eventually, and brave our "brave new worlds".

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    Replies
    1. Yup, hiding away is not going to miraculously solve anything.

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  2. I'm hoping for sooner rather than later...

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    1. I'm not even sure of what exactly it is I'm hoping. No clue on the time frame either. Just wish for an end to the misery.

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  3. maybe
    Oh your poem covers the perhaps? the yearnings? the questions?

    thank you for this poem

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    Replies
    1. Anytime! :) Too many questions and not enough answers is my problem just at the mo.

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  4. Questions with no answers is a curse that takes us forward because there is no going back. Beautiful words, frightening possibilities, and hope filled dreams! You've captured the moment...

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  5. Hope is that thing with feathers...it sustains us. Just came across from reading your FB post on your mum. That was adorable with the third eye. Whatever it is, we mothers have an instinct that cannot be explained.

    (((hugs)))

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