Prompt: write about an outsider
He looked into the leaning light
just before it faded, just before
the sun fell into the sea.
He saw there dim shapes like angels
and glimpses of a shifting landscape
tantalising … then came dark.
And this was his trouble. Always
without meaning to, he saw such things
while those around him didn’t.
Who could he talk to, who would hear?
Then after all, it became easy.
One of the beings spoke back.
That’s right, spoke back – back to his thoughts
using a language of liquid light
and the whole sky broke open.
Afterwards there was no reason
to converse with blind and deaf people.
The world he walked in dazzled.
Its music was a mystery
of intricate delight and longing.
He moved surrounded by clouds.
Why should he not choose in the end
to enter rapture permanently?
Nothing was holding him back.
I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')
These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.
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interesting. same fella? strong close to it.
ReplyDeleteOh no, this is an imaginary person - or a composite. The Andrew in the other is my husband.
ReplyDeleteI like the feel of this poem... and I especially like the image of the sun falling into the sea.
ReplyDeleteThank you! This one I'm happy with myself; it seems complete as is, rather than a first draft.
ReplyDelete