Featuring photos from my walk along Mousehold Ave and Gilman Road on a very windy, rainy Armistice day and a poem that I wrote this week reflecting on the need for a transition in our territorial, competitive culture and on inter-personal communications generally - including my own...
Leaves in Autumn
A bonfire of colour in the trees
The heralding of a turning tide?
A bonfire of vanities is what we need
Otherwise, otherwise...
Are WE those trees?
Or are we branches?
Or are we leaves?
Are some of us nuts?
Or maybe seeds?
And who's to judge?
And who lets be?
Watch who wields an axe,
Careful more, an axe unseen,
The rasping of a saw,
Unkindness in asides,
Assumptions, judgements, more,
How to deal with "difficult people",
Whisperings of war...
Paint them into corners,
If they don't reach for the door,
Gather all your forces,
And bash them to the floor.
Paint them into corners,
If they don't reach for the door,
Gather all your forces,
And bash them to the floor.
The bitterness on my own lips,
Do I swallow and ignore?
Are the sufferings of someone else
An irritation to endure?
Another person's weakness
A reason to abuse them more?
Another's gifts or fortunes
A reason to abhor?
How to deal with your nemesis
Without a bloody war?
I ask myself:
Whose work will I do for what and why?
And who lays down my law?
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Terrific poem Andy, and deep. There are sober questions that come in a time of fall. Ones that are hard to answer without going into the inner battlefield and our own wounded hearts (where we least want to go). But for Transition to work I think we need to and then be able to meet each other in the liberating spirit of the times. In salute, Charlotte
ReplyDeleteAmazing poem :)
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