Human Suffering Heavy eyes. Even though intensity broods They attain the willingness of dreams, Like a child’s yearning, a new depth, new appetite. So alone day after day, fixed in a place of what may have been. Lost in the thought of creative feeling. The expression of need overborne, Traditionally around the mounting pain, Which gave further mind to recognise the sorrow. This mortal portion, the depth of things. The I’ll breed, rustic forms wear the mind and pays No heed to the increasing stain you struggle to remove from time to time. A giant in your romance, in your time, fading; The distant colours merge into a collage Of nothing but a brown stain, Leaving no impression on your soul to compare To the beauty of past flourishing times. I’ve seen it! Strange and uncouth, sometimes humble; But mostly in the early hours when light Replenishes his eyes to awaken new thoughts. And the air, still sweet, pulls my attention back To the suffering on my father’s face. The pure joy of love is mine, I know! Defused by the silent look of things, His universal face nature has prepared, Then turns, all eyes on me it seems, A deeper lesson I feel but can’t yet receive. Later youth you gave me. Lost beneath me sometimes The sensational feeling, form and soul. I’ve swallowed up your pain, While without praise or thanks, I’ve watched you expire. Love…it can’t die dear father. Infinitely evolving, revolving, I can call to mind Those ecstasies, the wisdom you gave. New…I’ve called to practise in these calmer hours Of sober thought where my humble heart questioned What I didn’t understand. With a deeper eye I see the love and know the truth. I preserve the mind. In deep solitude I expand a truth deeply involving you. Feeling down, I can’t suppress my poverty, I employ the clock to call…now my time! My task to perform the naked occupation of loving, Blessed, yet sometimes I feel, without a soul. I laugh to myself in the silence, My mind essential to my heart’s yielding… A simpler form of life and of the elements which speak A plainer language; where the misunderstanding Isn’t a lesson, but more a lonesome meditation For contemplation, delivering comfort from the Habits of necessity and the thoughts of you. I truly feel the innocence, the glory taking to the hills. The wholeness of time, a comprehensive view of ordinary life. “That’s all! Unwrapped, I’m ready,” I hear you say, “take me now!” “I have felt no anger just grief opened by your symphony of showing, Of telling. I’ve enjoyed the constant disposition of your endurance. I only feel cheerfulness, not painful pressure from within. While wretched, often in fear, I suffer NOW! My daily life of rounded vowels made small in your circle of dread”. I lay hidden it seemed in exterior forms As rest…as peace fell upon his face. I wait, watching sometimes the multitude of stars, Finding no surface where my energy may sleep, No logic for my soul to keep. No grounding for my feet. Often alone in my frame like some forgotten language, or a morbid passion, I find deformities in life and love. I meditate to stimulate my mind and the spiritual presence of you, The absent things I no longer find, a sweet but painful lesson Suffering to be human. Poem by Jem JA for my dear departed Father Eric Jan 9th 02
Posted on: Fri, 09 Aug 2013 17:51:27 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015