Upon Hearing an Aeroplane

  

I hear the sound of an aeroplane

Slicing through the silence.

It speaks of comings and goings,

Of partings and reunions.

The one full of sadness

The other full of joy.

It speaks of holidays in other places,

The mystery and magic of the newly discovered.

Vivid impressions of a first encounter

With people, places, smells, and language.

I think of the miracle of invention.

The first certainty that flight

In a machine was possible.

I marvel that the weight of so

Many people, baggage, cargo, metal

Can stay up there and not come

Down as does a ball when thrown aloft.

Mankind never ceases to amaze with

New and daring thoughts painstakingly

Realised to move life on another notch.

The inspiration surely comes like arrows

From the Universe directly to the waiting minds

Open to receive such innovative thoughts.

How many inspirational arrows fall

On stony ground before hitting the mark

Transforming into what we call

In our ignorance, Genius.

May such arrows never cease to aim

And find their mark, and may one

At least be labelled ‘Peace on Earth

Goodwill to Men’.

 

 

 

 

           

SEA  CHANGE

It is a bright clear day

As I look out upon the bay.

Yesterday the sea had had its say,

No one had dared to pass that way.

The white fury was magnificently spent;

Even the seagulls had been sent

Winging away to perch on a distant

Point, observing the mad enchantment.

The anchored boats were but playthings

Of the waves that went rolling and adventuring

By kind permission of their King,

Intent upon their short-lived fling.

As I look now at this same the bay

Its hard to picture the sea that way.

Old King Neptune rests himself today.

The waves are bidden not to play.

Water Symphony

Thoughts on Snow

The first snowfall of winter brings with it a certain excitement. It has a distinctive smell quite different from that of rain. It is a clear, cold pristine smell like pale blue would smell if it was a perfume. Feathery flakes flutter to the ground to join millions of others, in minutes working their white magic on the landscape. Briefly there is perfect silence as if all life is stunned, needing time to adjust to nature’s new clothing.

Tentative footprints crunch and leave their mark, soon to be obliterated as if never there. Children find new pleasures to explore, adults remember the slushy mess of a sudden thaw.

Away from urban sprawl nature paints her seasonal colours and does not require an audience.

Elusive Memory

I’ve been to see a film of a play! A luscious experience. Enjoyment piled upon enjoyment. Time out from real life. It was witty and succinct, and moved at a satisfying pace. What worries me now is retaining the memory of it. I feel it slipping from me hour by hour. I don’t want to lose it. I’m trying to re-live it to fix it in my memory bank. Will it be enough just to remember that I had a wonderful experience without the detail of the author’s cleverness.

The actor’s were totally believable, but even they have to slip back in to their everyday selves. Does their next role throw a cloak over the memory or will it be forever part of who they are.

Maybe it is that my experience of today will become part of who I am, a fragment of the whole.

Early morning air

The first whiff of early morning

Coming through the open window

Holds a special anticipation.

There is a promise that anything

Is possible if only one dared.

A freshness and a clarity like

A transparent veil enfolds me

Soon to leave behind a fragile

Imprint as the day becomes alive.

It is up to me entirely to breathe in,

And take hold of this opportunity.

The Gateway

Dying is a gateway

To greater things beyond.

Although there is a special time

For each and every one

Don’t be in a rush to leave

You have your destiny to fulfil.

Just knowing the glory that awaits

Can make your earthly trials

Seem as a pinprick compared

With the timeless eternity that

Your soul has earned.

Do not fear life’s ending

When it draws near

But arm yourself with knowledge

And welcome the change

In your state of being.

Live, love, laugh and learn

Is all that is asked of you.

Solitary Musing

I stand alone upon the beach

Like many have I’m sure

And wonder where the waves

Have been before they came ashore.

Have they come from very far

Or do they ebb and flow eternally

Bound to this one spot

As prisoners on a chain.

I look down to see my feet

Encased in piebald sand.

Each grain far from its origin

Of solid rock and stone.

I look above my head to watch

The seagull’s aerial dance.

White wings flash with sunlight

Obeying the laws of flight.

In the far distance the azure sky

Meets the ultramarine dark sea.

A slight curve is all to tell

My wondering glance there’s more

More beyond and over

That deceptive finishing line

Which in the past fooled many

To believe the earth was flat.

 ©Eve Oct. 2012 

The Field of Vision

The extent to which you can ‘see’ depends on the depth of your experience and willingness to apply it to everyday life. The world around you can be seen on more than one level according to your awareness. Life can be deep or it can be shallow - rather like a fish swimming only near the surface knows nothing of the teeming life below. In order to progress in our understanding it is important to have a receptive mind. A closed mind is no more use than a closed book.

Become accustomed to seeing in layers. Peer under each layer as you would a stone, question, be inquisitive, seek, find answers in unexpected places. There is so much more to be known behind the obvious. Grow a little in knowledge every day so the curtain between your mind and the universal mind is gradually dissolved.

12/02/10

The Development of a Conscience

We are born with an innate sense of right and wrong which needs developing and nurturing. To ignore the promptings to take the ‘right’ path is to start on a downward slide. It is much harder to reverse the ‘wrong’ path than to choose the one the conscience directs. Practice in listening to the directives of conscience help it to grow strong and in time the uplifting path becomes the natural one to choose.

Unfortunately the more one chooses the less moral action the easier it becomes to ignore conscience altogether. The gaols are surely full of people who have managed to suppress the promptings of their conscience.

Now that the mainstream churches have lessened their grip the conscience has lost one of its main allies which used to give weekly injections of morality. Now it is left to personal responsibility and the knowledge that each cause has an effect. Each action must ultimately be examined in the light of conscience.

Survival

I feel my central core

Is like a slender stem.

It has difficulty withstanding

The push and pull of stronger

Outside, intrusive, influences.

How to remain true to self

Even to know what that is.

The survival of the real me

Is crucial to my existence

But is everyday subject to attack.

Subtle changes take place

Which over time alter my

Perception of the real me.

Am I who I was meant to be.

Has the journey from cradle to grave

Made me into a different me.

Will I recognise the essence

Of myself when that is all that’s left.

The Dream

I had a dream that you were there

Wrapped in the mists of far off time.

I could not see your face; it was not clear,

But I knew that it was you.

You who made the sun and stars

To shine so bright for me

Whenever you were near.

You touched my dreams and came to me

And sent sweet perfume to enrapture.

You could not stay and went  away

Leaving a memory, a wisp of knowing,

To permeate my senses.

Even in the telling it is not real

And may soon fade away,

Away to Dreamland

Ode to the Sun After a Dark winter

    

Radiant sun we’ve missed you

Missed your warmth and comfort

Spirits have been sinking ever lower

Then, O joyous wonder of a morn

The grey and gloom dispersed

And there you were sliding

Into view above the darkened hills

Your beams like fingers reached out

And touched the earth so chill

Touched the weary and the old

And made them feel like gold.

We know you cannot stay

Nor would we wish it so

For cloud rain and wind also

Have their usefulness

But please do not be so long away.

The Lost Poet

The words you wrote

Were beautiful.

They did not rhyme or scan

But words from the heart

Have their own rhythm.

I waited for more lines

From you not knowing

That you lay dead under the snow.

That foreign field now holds

Your poems in its earth

Like crystals enshrined

In stone.

Ode to Escapism

I crave some peace

Peace to find my inner self.

Life makes demands

I do not always want

To answer their call.

Child, pupil, sweetheart, wife

Mother, grandmother, friend,

Foe, nurse, adviser, comforter,

The list goes on but deep

Inside just who am I.

I feel would like to escape

To that place that is so

Secret I will never be found

Until I am ready to take

Part in Life again.

Will the me that I discover

Be someone that I like

Admire even, or will I find

Deep disappointment in

The person I have become.

A New Day Dawns

The colours of sunrise swirl around

Before gathering into a fresh slate

On which to paint an exciting new

Instalment of the saga called Life.

There will be choices to make,

Happy, sad, regretful, optimistic

Negative or positive, and at day’s end

What colours will leave their indelible mark?

Future Shock 

Is this what the air around me

Would look like if I could

See all the transmissions

Cutting through my space.

Telephones, televisions, radios, Ipads

Transmissions of all varieties slicing

Through my body with no regard

For the effect upon my cells.

No wonder I sometimes feel I’m

Not in full control of myself.

I’m absorbing other people’s text

Messages and communications.

Negative, positive, and neutral

Vibrations abound and invade.

   My Scream

I have this scream inside

Primordial in its nature.

One day I fear, untried

It will escape still pure.

The colour will be red,

Ultramarine, and black.

Everything long unsaid

Nothing now held back.

The result will surely shock

Being the very opposite of me.

I must find the key that will unlock

The buried anguish totally.

Locomotion

Island City