Better a word shared than not said at all,
better to stretch, to open to give
than to hide in lonely safety.
We weren’t made to solidify,
to grind to an inevitable halt
to fossilise until we are
merely a record of who we were.
The give may burn
but what rises from the ashes
is a life made pure in love
the connective bond
which calls out our humanity
to live another day.
My second attempt at YouTube poetry. I badly need a microphone and its on my Christmas list, but in the meantime subtitles will have to help.
Anyway, I tried something new with this, the first half of the poem i did on the fly as I recorded rather than writing it down. It was an interesting if slightly scary experience.
Dog walking looms, my heart sinks at the grey clouds.
Venturing out in the wind and the rain.
We are all washed up, the three of us scurry home.
My eye is caught by the garden.
Beauty all around, rain drenched.
Droplets on a rose, so perfect.
Soggy shoes forgotten, hot coffee.
Cool clear light
Filters through the thin curtains.
The trains and the birds,
Their chorus sounding.
It indicates the earliness of her awakening
But then it consertinas the time to allow
For coffee and toast,
The news on the radio,
And proper emergence from the chrysalis
Of the previous day.