BIRDSONG

We stopped today under the motorway bridge,
Traffic roared above our heads,
Birdsong rose above the roar,
Clear and pure in summer’s air.

Traffic roared above our heads,
Unexpected was the sound,
Clear and pure in summer’s air,
Piercing our hearts exquisitely.

Unexpected was the sound,
Birds sing in strange places,
Piercing our hearts exquisitely,
Nature deafening traffic’s roar.

Birds sing in strange places,
Under concrete, tar and steel,
Nature defeating traffic’s roar,
Nothing can ever silence them.

Under concrete, tar and steel,
Sounds and senses mix and throb,
Nothing can ever silence them,
We stopped today under the motorway bridge.

WALKINK

I LIKE TO TRY TO POST UPLITING POSITIVE POEMS BUT LATELY I HAVE DEVELOPED SOME BAD PHYSICAL PAIN AND FIND IT HAED TO SIT UP IN BED. THIS POEM IS ABOUT KEEPING WALKziNG THROUGH HARD TIMES HOWEVER MUCH IT HURTS AND YOU HAVE TO KEEP PUSHING ON THROUGH THE PAIN. BOTH PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL

Walking,
Pushing on, pain
Pressing every fibre,
Grief overwhelms, hot tears falling,
Why did
You go,
Abandon me to suffering?
Take away nourishment,
Leaving me cold,
Tell me

Inside
Yourself you find
The deepest well my friend
Drink deep, find the bubbling water
Welling
Up to
Eternal life, never ending,
Trust the waters therein
You will not die
Just drink

WALK THE DEEP

The fog
Has gone, the dark
Has come, I walk, stumbling,
But find to stumble is to know
The joy
You hold
For me in the darkness, embrace
The darkness my dear friend
Better than light
It glows

Growing
In the darkness
Are the richest fine seeds
Let them grow, do not run away,
God dwells
In dark
Let it embrace you now, fear not,
Step out of your safe boat,
And you will walk
The Deep

CERTAINTY

As my mother grows ever older, and begins to fade, I find myself contemplating life, death, and the meaning of all things. She is 92 years old, and has a lung diease called emphysema. She has had it for ten years now, and recently we almost lost her to an infection.

Yesterday, we thought we were going to lose her again,and we know that at any time we could be saying “Farewell.”

I am a very sensitive person,and can honestly say that I have pndered the meaning of life and death since being a very small child. I remember being introduced to death by my grandmother. Someone had died, and until that time I had not even known that such a thing existed. I just thought that we go on for ever. It was a great shock to me to discover that this is not so. I well remember discussing with my grandmother concerning my mother,and being appalled that one day she too would die. Not only that, but one day this would come to me also.

Well, in 2013, I almost died. I well remember one particular night when I swore that I could hear voices around me, calling me, and that indeed my time had come. In fact, that was almost the case. But something brought me back to this earth, and I did not die. But that experience has lived with me ever since.

I contemplate life and death a lot, and go through various stages in my assessment and feelings about it. I do not have any certainty about anything. Is there really a life beyond? What are we here for anyway? Why were we born at all, if only to die?

So many people seem so certain of so many things. But I am not. I have no certainty at all. Can I live with that? Yes, kind of, but with difficulty.

As human beings we want to control everything – to be in control. Uncertainty is one thing that we find hard to live with. But I am certain of nothing, except that I am uncertain.

I watch my mother approaching her death. And I am afraid. Yes, I dare to say that. I am afraid.

One day,recently, my mother leaned forward in her chair, put her head in her hands and said, “I’m frightened.” I put my arms around her and held her tightly. I KNEW her fear.

She aked me, “Wouldn’t you be frightened?” And of course, I had to say, “Yes, I would.”

And today, I am telling you that indeed, I am frightened. And that I have no certainty.

So there, I said it. I am frightened. Aren’t we all?

SURRENDERING

WHEN YOU GO BLIND YOU CAN EITHER FIGHT AND BRUISE YOURSELF OR YOU CAN SURRENDER.

Surrendering to the darkness I sit,
Letting its arms wrap around me, rock me,
For by no other is my dark life lit,
Only in the dark can I truly see,
Waves of peace wash over my aching soul,
Soothing, calming my ever raging storm,
For I have tried so long to reach a goal
Not of my own making, how I was torn,
I knew that in the dark there was more light,
For in the dark I see with different eyes,
The eyes that walk by faith and not by sight,
And in the darkness now my spirits rise,
The light deceives false comfort offers me,
Embracing dark I can be truly free.

DEADLY NIGHTSHADE

Tall hedges lined the long narrow lane,
Beneath them, flowers, and deadly nightshade,
Beyond them lush green fields where cattle grazed,
I imagined them to be horses,
On their backs I could ride, gallop
Through my world of childhood dreams

Many were my childhood dreams,
I dreamt them as I walked down the lane,
I’d race in a race, at the gallop,
Never mind the deadly nightshade,
I’d turn the cattle into horses,
Train them in the field where they grazed

At night I’d walk where the cattle grazed,
Lost for the moment in my dreams,
With the wave of a wand they could be horses,
The other side of the hedge was the lane
And I had to remember the deadly nightshade
As I heard the horses gallop

I’d never before made a horse gallop,
Though often in other dreams I’d grazed,
I was drawn one day to the deadly nightshade,
Now it had invaded my dreams,
I knew there was danger in the lane ,
I forgot the galloping horses

I’d always been fascinated by horses,
But never taken one at the gallop,
Now I was fascinated by the lane,
As this night the cattle grazed,
Soon I’d be in the land of dreams,
Where I could approach the deadly nightshade

“Don’t go near the deadly nightshade,”
My grandmother said as I dreamt of horses,
But she could not get into my dreams,
Where I’d taken horses at the gallop,
On the deadly nightshade I grazed,
Grandma found me dead in the lane

TODAY SHE RAN OUT OF INK

Today she ran out of ink
Her well had dried up
Her hand lay limp at her side
Just like the brain in her head
Who was going to fill her well?
Her gaze hit the floor

Her dreams lay on the floor
Pictures not drawn in ink
Her life had not gone well
How could those dreams rise up?
What could she do with her head
Put everything aside?

She had nothing left inside
But plenty on the floor
Looking up at her head
Thirsty for some ink
Didn’t the devil do well?
How could the fragments get up?

Something told her she had to buck up
Lift her hand up from her side
Take a drink from the well
Picking things up from the floor
Riding on the fountain’s head
Ready to write in ink

Things have to be written ink
In letters that stand up
Words not just from the head
But from the heart that beats inside
Refreshed by the drink from the well
Rising up from the floor

Now there is nothing on the floor
Not even spilled ink
Magical was the well
Lifting her spirits up
Now she’s back on the right side
Everything’s right in her head

The fountain’s head gives life to the ink
That once was on the floor looking up
At the hand lying limp at her side unaware of the well

THE END OF TIME

The world is in motion
Nothing still
As the Dance goes on
Weaving
Gliding
Twisting
Forming patterns like the crystals of a snowflake
Painting pictures
Creating stories
Dying
Birthing
Re-creating
Is there really a time for everything
Or is everything in its time?
And is there a difference?
Soon, time will be no more
The Dance will end
As eternity calls
The picture will be complete
But how will the story end?
As eternity calls
A new book will be opened
A book called “The Book of Life”
And in this book
A day will be like a thousand years
And a thousand years like a day
And here, there will be no endings
Or even beginnings
For time will be no more
In a life that is eternal

THE LINE

And now a line is drawn
Immoveable, stubborn
Keeping the past intact
The future uncertain
A blank page upon which to write my life
Once I could see, now I am blind
So how will I see the marks I make?
Will I feel them in my heart?
Can I create a new song?
Or is there nothing new under the sun?
And is the line really so stubborn
Or does it have a weak part
Where the past peeps through
Squiggles through a tiny hole
Making its appearance unexpectedly
Shocking
Challenging
Do its notes become part of the new song
Rising up to the sky
Like the lark in the morning

WOMAN

Woman
Why do you weep?
Because they have taken
All that I am and ever was
Casting
Lots for
My clothes that lie dormant and dead
As if to cast away
My very life
Go now

My clothes
Were colourful
Chosen especially, bright
Like the person I truly am
But now
You dress
Me in black and grey and brown, kill
The spirit within me
The life that lived
I weep

Woman
I am but who
Would ever know it? Wrapped
In these deathly shrouds that you choose
Inside
I live
And breathe and glow and know that I
Make love to the world, feel
My gracious curves
Heal me

TEETH

My teeth
Await me, i
Join them in the bathroom,
No longer do they fit my gums,
Shrunk by
Cancer,
There is no remedy they say,
Except maybe my leg,
Take off a bit,
Make gum

This short poem encapsulates some of the reality of cancer and what it can leave you with!

TOUCH ME

Long hours
Spent in the dark,
Disorientate you,
Remove you from reality,
A hand,
A touch,
A gentle voice speaking your name
Brings you back to this world
If you are blind,
Touch me

I wrote the above poem becayse people are afraid of toych, yet to a blind person it is vital. Without toych, we are cut off from the world, and left in our terrible isolation.

THERE’S ALWAYS THE BLOSSOM

Last year my heart was broken
And then I saw the blossom
A canopy of purest pink,
Bathing in its beauty, peace
Swept into my soul,
And crept right through my body

Diseased and limpid was my body,
It seemed my life was broken,
I did not know how to save my soul,
But there it was, the beautiful blossom,
Once again I knew deep peace
As I feasted on its deepest pink

Since cancer had hit me I!d always worn pink
Feeling a ransom to my body
Boldly trying to find my peace
Through disease my life was broken
How could my life ever now blossom
Or healing come to my soul?

I craved the healing of my soul
My skin pallid, never pink
Blindly, I squinted at the blossom
Fighting with my body
How many lives had cancer broken?
I thirsted this day for peace

My thirst was quenched I found my peace
The deepest desire of my soul
Gathered were the pieces broken
By the gentle arms of the pink
A healing balm coursed through my body
Coming from the blossom

And the words in my heart said, “There’s always the blossom,”
Remember me and you’ll always have peace
While you have to live in your body
Colouring your very soul,
This day I was healed by the purest pink
Never again will my heart be broken

Though my world now feels so broken, I am filled with peace,
Knowing that there’s always the blossom, waiting to heal my soul,
Colouring my life with deepest pink, soothing the pain in my body

AND WHAT OF THOSE WHO WEEP?

And what of those who weep?
Who in their sorrow glimpsed the Easter joy,
The Risen Jesus making a brief appearance,
But only then to be snatched away.
The devil entered then this massive stage,
Got into one of the crowd,
Those who crucified the Lamb
Who now proclaim Him risen,
They the ones who killed Him cruelly,
They the ones who killed ME cruelly,
But now put on their masks of joy and piety,
These evil doers at the heart of Easter.

KEPT WOMAN

Tonight
My heart like lead
Grieves for what I have lost
Never will I walk alone but
Be held
And leashed
Before me stretches a vastness
That I can only feel
As the wind blows
Gently

I long
To wander through
Green fields, on ancient paths
Without my leash, set free again
Blindly
I fall
As I try in vain to step out
And now I know the score
I am a kept
Woman

KNOCKING ON HEAVEN’S DOOR

Please let me in, to where your God is,
I want to be with Him too,
I want to be where you are,
But I am where I am,
Here,
Outside the door,
Knocking.

You do not even notice me,
Hear me knocking,
Crying, “Let me in,”
Your eyes are full while mine are empty,
Like my heart,
Straining to get to where you are,
Aching
To share your joys with you,
To be full once again .

Hungry,
I sit at the closed door in my wheelchair,
Starving
Craving your love and warmth,
But your eyes don’t see,
Your ears don’t hear
My knocking.
You go on your way,
I, invisible,
I cannot share your Feast .

I sit and cry,
Empty yet full,
For my eyes see more than yours do,
My ears hear,
“There’s none so blind as them that cannot see,”
And I am satisfied,
For i see the Cross,
And hear the words,
“Father, forgive them, they know not what they do,”
And to the blind and lame,
” Today you shall be with me in Paradise.”

RISE UP

Rise up and live, you blind,
There’s a world of wonder out there,
Don’t get left behind.

Break out, be free, you’ll find
So much beauty that we can share,
Rise up and live, you blind.

Throw off, throw off the ties that bind,
Release your every care,
Don’t get left behind.

Don’t get tied up in the daily grind,
Feast your eyes on rich fare,
Rise up and live, you blind.

For freedom and truth this life was designed,
So let the trumpets blare,
Don’t get left behind.

Blind eyes can see for what they pined,
There’s throbbing in the air,
Rise up and live, you blind,
Don’t get left behind.

TREAD SOFTLY

Tread softly as you go into the night,
For many before have journeyed on this road,
Soon will come the dawning of the light.

Do not let your dark thoughts cloud your sight,
Raging long while carrying your load,
Tread softly as you go into the night.

Take heart from those of old who in the fight,
Preserved within the promise of a heavenly abode,
Soon will come the dawning of the light.

The light cannot be quenched by grief’s great might,
Sing, for joy on you will be bestowed,
Tread softly as you go into the night.

Speak soft and gentle words when at the height
Of darkest struggles, do not goad,
Soon will come the dawning of the light.

Let not your heart be troubled, glimpse the bright
Joys ahead, sweet heavenly food,
Tread softly as you go into the night,
Soon will come the dawning of the light.

FLYING

One day I found that I was flying,
Soaring in the sky, exhilarated,
I used to think that I was dying.

Many desperate hours spent crying,
Blossomed into joy, elated,
One day I found that I was flying.

My voice came back and now I’m singing,
I kiss the clouds, I am not fated,
I used to think that I was dying.

I’m living now, death defying,
My zest for life cannot be sated,
One day I found that I was flying.

The time has now long gone for sighing,
Those dreaded times that I so hated,
I used to think that I was dying.

Life picked me up while I was trying
To take Hope’s hand, I’m emancipated,
I used to think that I was dying,
One day I found that I was flying.

DOVES OF PEACE

They’re broken now, white doves of peace,
Bought with high hopes of mending what was shattered,
I never meant for it to be,
But for you my words were just too much to take.
I was not like you.
I could not be your clone.

I placed them there, white doves of peace,
I wanted you to understand,
But for you these birds
Spoke not of restful things.
I could not move you,
Your face set hard like stone.

TREES

If the trees could talk I wonder what they would say to me
In the silence of the night
In the depths of the darkness I listen
I hear the rowan tree say
“Look, I bear red berries aplenty”
And I think of the shed blood
That saved my life
And I heard the weeping willow say
“Listen, I am weeping for your pain”
I hear the sturdy oak say
“See how strong I am. You can be strong too”
I hear the towering poplar say
“You can stand tall too”
And I hear them all join together in a symphony of love
Hearing me weep
Making me strong
Helping me grow

FITTING

This poem is deducated to many people who don’t fit

I don’t
Fit with your plans,
Your teachings, a brain lives
Inside my head, that breaks my heart,
Fragments
Scattered
All over the floor, messing up
Your tidy clean world, run
Before the mess
Gets you

REPLY TO NANDITA

I just found your beautiful post on your site Nandita. Thankyou SO much. What kind words. I do not know what a Reblog button is, or what reblogging is lol. Blindness prevents you seeing things on sites prooerly, and understanding what is happening and where. I just about manage to post my own poems etc. and follow other people’s sites to some extent, but beyond that I am a nerd lol.

I read your latest poem, and it is beautiful. Indeed, that is where we find the divine – within us. And you have found it. And it will sustain you and keep you gling throughout your life, whatever people throw at you. Bless you Nandita, my very dear friend

FOR NANDITA – JUDGEMENT

We are sisters Nandita. Your,poem, just posted, is my experience too. Here is just a little Haiku that I wrote a long time ago. I used to write a lot about hupocrisy and judgement too. But now I am on another track. But here is the haiku:

Judgements can be wrong
Be careful how you judge me
Who is innocent?

DEATH

I just saw death you know
Staring me in the face
Eyes like fire
I stared back
Defiant
Stood my ground
Who was going to run first?

I waited
Watched
Fixing my eyes on its gaze
Knowing that
I was stronger
Life was longer
I would not linger

It looked and knew
That I was strong
It was an unequal fight
And soon its powers dwindled
Shrivelled
In the fierce force of my light
Death had lost its power
I won the prize

LIQUID SILVER STREAM

In the liquid silver stream of your love
I rest awhile
And feel my body become light
Floating where it will
No fire can put it to rout
Though fierce it tried
Upheld by love’s strong hand
I find my way
To that place where sorrow
Cannot darken my path
Nor tears mark my face
A place of light
Silky smooth
Glowing
Never ending

SONNET TO BLUE CHEESE

Forsooth, I ne’er must eat blue cheese again,
However coquettishly it doth wink,
E’en if it says to me its name is Bren,
It ne’er again will bring me to the brink,
Ne’er have I forgot its wondrous smooth curves,
Blue veins forming a perfect labyrinth,
No man on earth such fire doth he deserve,
Yet hark, I hear it calling from its plinth,
Forsooth, it surely speaks my name – “Derek”,
“Come hither Derek, place me in your mouth,
Hear now, I swear I’ll drive you almost manic,
There is no better cheese made in the South.”
Ho, there is nothing now that I can do,
She always said I was a silly moo.

WHAT SONG?

What song
Would I leave you
If I were to die, friend?
I’d tell you that the road is hard,
Mountains
Valleys
Rocks and stones, scorching heat, ice cold
Winds that roar and bellow
Jackals roaming
Hungry

I’d say
That life goes fast
Soon it has flown away
But you can survive its onslaughts
And live
Survive
Even when stripped of all you have
Your essence still lives on
Fragrant and sweet
Walk on

Somehow
You will find strength
Bigger than the mountains
Deep in valleys
Of death
Never give up but know yourself
Drink from the well within
You can do this
I did

WELCOME TO MY WORLD

Eerie shapes moving around,
Muffled sounds of chattering,
People brushing past my wheelchair,
Walking on by without a word,
Am I invisible?

I open my mouth and try to speak,
But no sound comes out
For you have gone,
I listen for someone coming by,
But you move on so quickly
Have I no voice?

Tears fall from my eyes
I do not exist
An ache fills the heart
That you cannot see
I thought it was me
That couldn’t see

I leave the building
Alone again,
I cannot see,
But I can hear
Everyone talking in little groups
I long to be part of the human race

TOUCH ME

Today
I don’t know how
I managed to get up
My body ached, my heart ached too
Alone
I sat
In my world of terrible fog
Touch me, bring me back to life now
Bring me
To be part of your world
Don’t leave me sitting all alone
Crying
Dying
Give me your hand and say your name
And I will tell you mine
My name is Lorraine
What’s yours?

Don’t walk
Past me today
Leaving me all alone
Let me know that you are right there
Holding
Seeing
That all I that need is your love
Don’t make me lie on a
Hard rock pillow
Hurting

Soft words
Are what I need
Let me hear you, know you
Knowing you I can know my God
You are
His hands
And feet In this valley of tears
Your hand is His, touch mine
So He can touch
My heart

SCREAM

A woman’s scream
Pierces the air of the Holy Place,
Like arrows, pointed, sharp,
Splintering the heavy stillness,
Fragments of her life lay all around,
Shattering the silence,
She sits in disarray,
Shame fills her very soul,
The unforgivable has been done,
You don’t scream in Church.
But what of the sin that was done to her?
Which sin was greater?
Silent she has been for far too long,
Swathed in shame and guilt,
Paralysed by fear.
But now, the life within her stirs,
Her bonds are loosed,
She fights for air,
And finds her voice.
Her scream is sacred

I REST MY SOUL

Today
I rest my soul
Clinging onto your breast
Finding a salve for gaping wounds
A place
To cry
Tears that for ever I have held
Intact within my heart
Now, the storm breaks
Hold me

So long
I was aloof
From a love that was pure
Contaminated was my soul
With lies
Telling
That pure love could never be mine
But something broke my heart
Opening me
To love

GRIEF

I hold
In my hands, grief
Too large to encompass
With trembling body, aching heart
I sit
Confused
Dazed by its enormity, help
Me hold it my dear friend
For part of it
Is yours

One can
Only sustain
So much grief before death
Assails your broken body, takes
Away
Your heart
Poured out for many grieving ones
Left with only a shell
So brittle to shatter
There on the ground
You lie