In the burning of the blue summer day,
A mischievous water sprite will appear and beckon you in,
Some will dip their toes, turn and walk away,
Bent and huddled over by the cold winds of apprehension.
The thought that it is safer on the shore,
Quiets the urge to plunge, unfettered, into the cool water.
A brave horse will charge carefree, into war,
Yet defy the heel, startle at the water's edge and falter.
Death's grip tugs like a rope around your neck,
Paralysing the possible and deep freezing the warm heart.
The ocean of dread is making you sick,
And the fear of unrelenting waves is tearing you apart.
You cannot hear singing in the night sky,
The God you once believed in cannot play music anymore,
He prefers to watch you suffer and die,
Like a problem child, locked out in the rain banging on the door.
God is ill and his silence is a cage,
And we are alone, and must prepare the fire and the food,
So, let us all dance near the water's edge,
Knowing that our love is the healing of God's ingratitude.
-
Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: February 2nd, 2025 01:38
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments2
The words and lines come to me like a dance between hope and despair, love and fear. It resonates deeply, offering a powerful reflection on our collective journey. 👍🏻🙏🏻🕊
Thank you compadre that is exactly what I was hoping for in this poem.Mucho appreciado
Hey, that’s so good to hear. Sometimes I’m so tired the words are just a jumble in my tangled up mind. 🙏🏻🕊
Some really great lines in this poem "God is ill and his silence is a cage" is one that evokes a great deal of thought. Very nicely done David.
Thank you so much .I hope God has health insurance. Just kidding
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.