another changing of the guard

silence broken by loud scream
the things we know have all come true
we have no option but to deem
the old betrayed and blame the new
what is is more than what may seem
the one who wins is he who slew
the creature lurking by the stream
and then received more than his due

a world of choices comes to one
we reach a fork in the long road
we cannot walk nor even run
what was behind us is our goad
we know the path that we must shun
we understand the secret code
each hopes for a returning sun
and struggles under the huge load

no signal comes to tell us how
we these strange paths must navigate
sweat shall spring up on every brow
we'll never reach the staring gate
unless we this hard truth avow
there is an answer against fate
and more than that we must allow
to come into our proper state

all change requires some early pain
your heart must take it beat by beat
not thinking of the coming gain
just whether the road suits our feet
the mountain giving way to plain
stale water giving way to sweet
rejoicing in the autumn rain
and laughing in the city street

outside the office window

late summer sunrise
silhouette of leafy trees
under pearly sky

Limerick for Nalo Hopkinson

Choose seas that are deep, never shallow,
land once cultivated, now fallow;
describe them in words
more graceful than birds,
and you're reading a novel by Nalo.

Listening at evening

Frogs and cicadas
in the pond behind my house,
the summer chorus.

who see with blinding sight

our children soon will have to pay the bill
for all our failures and our false desires
for now we all seem to have lost the will

our planet turns it's never standing still
each day to better one of us aspires
our children soon will have to pay the bill

grain turns to flour daily in the old mill
it simply does what the whole world requires
for now we all seem to have lost the will

only the lucky get to eat their fill
and then to sing in the adoring choirs
our children soon will have to pay the bill

the rest of us must be content with swill
and celebrate not being trapped in mires
for now we all seem to have lost the will

it does not matter who may have the skill
to warm the coal and start again the fire
our children soon will have to pay the bill
for now we all seem to have lost the will

blind and unblessed

let memory speak not one of us will hear
life tells us that we must let all things go
we come upon them whether quick or slow
knowing that soon there'll be a change of gear
between the pylons each of us must steer
up and down hill in rain and mud and snow
through the calm air or during breezy blow
that is the way of things year after year
and yet my eyes are filled with angry tears
when i remember what there might have been
and all those things i once thought to desire
still horses charge onto the waiting spears
our eyes forget the many hurts we've seen
and we wait calmly for the coming fire

fathered and found

having no choice we march towards an end
inscribed both in the body and the mind
the spool moves forward we cannot rewind
and get for all of it just what we spend
there are some ills that we can never mend
so each of us about some things is blind
and bitter cruel when we should be kind
we should do nothing that we can't defend
and yet we need the world to make us whole
alone we've nothing save the searing pain
that clasps us tightly in its metal glove
together we can join to find the pole
build us a shelter against the cold rail
and know that what alone survives is love