Poem -
New light
As the light of day
slowly fades,
I drift from my words
on a blackbird’s song.
A different rythm
sets the pace
of my heartbeats.
The dream falls asleep
and makes way for life
beyond all daily doings,
nothing remains but this
being,
this waking up
into who I am:
at its deepest
impalpable as mist
all space,
in time
my body,
past all,
above all
self in the sun
that light I bring back
with me into the dream,
which I outgrow
more and more…
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Comments
really like those last two lines about light! nice write John!........................Jim..........................where is that pic?
Hi, Jim,
Thanx for liking the hard work of waking up into who I truly am, not the dream you are supposed to live...
The pic was taken in (I think) 2006 somewhere in the Swiss Alps. I belive at 3.400 metres altitude looking out on the Monte Bianco/Mont Blanc. To me it represents the shift from living in the dream and in the light. It's me you see on the back :-)
I have such a deep interest in dreams and reality. I absolutely loved this sensation of transition you penned here
just deeply moving. And the end lines of this poem perfectly close this piece. Like dreams that fade I think you captured the sensation of detachment from dreams and reality
Gwen
Hi, Gwen, to you too thank you for the kind comment. I might be 61 years old now, but I still have to wake up from the dream I used to believe to be reality. Slowly, ever so slowly, I am growing up to find out that the reality is very different from the dream and much more beautiful to experience (and no: I am not ever on psychedelics - I can do it all on my own :-)). The Goddess be with you
What an awe inspiring poem John! You have smashed it out of the park with this one my friend. Though I think Gwen has claimed most of the quoting... love your way with words.
Deepest impalable as mist. Very deep write! Always love your work my friend. Peace to you
Hanx agin, my friend. Waking up into who you were supposed to be is a lifelong job (you are in it for life!) I am perhaps not a very prolific writer, I only jot down what I find necessary to do - Poetry is my diary... Hang in there, hope for you the (travel-)bubble breaks sooner then by the end of next year (at least: if what is true I heard on the radio news this morning).
Nice write