The outlook is blurred on this moving stage,
Some see meaning in every season,
The old lion bites the bars of his cage,
Hurting only himself for no reason.
Others see a futile struggle of pain,
Without hope of redemption or grace,
The burrowed creatures fear the pouring rain,
And run fast to find a safe hiding place.
Nothing good has ever been preserved,
The glorious dawn light fades each morning,
The dusk heralds unknown darkness deserved,
Beauty unseen is gone without warning.
This sad hallucination is not real,
Even a Mother’s Love will disappear,
Leaving nothing but moments that we steal,
And long hours gasping for air in fear.
But there is a moment in the darkness,
At its black heart the cyclone is at peace,
And a glimpse is given of happiness,
And a wondrous Joy that will never cease.
-
Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: May 27th, 2025 00:05
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
- Users favorite of this poem: Damaso
Offline)
Comments4
It's very inspiring to get the nuance that even in the worst of times, there is a quiet, unshakable peace waiting to be discovered 🙏🏻🕊️
I like to think there is.Only time will tell. Thanks so much for your insight cobber
Good thoughts, good words 🙏🏻🕊️
A sense of how ever dark it gets or how much we struggle, there is hope that light and peace can be found, enjoyed the read
Yes hope is worth clinging to.Thank you so much for commenting
You are very welcome
(At its black heart the cyclone is at peace,) A great line David and pregnant with meaning. Loved the poem.
Thank you so much. I was trying for a bit of hope after despair. Thanks for commenting
Excellent write David
Thank you mi amigo
You're welcome
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.