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On this Thanksgiving Morning
| Open Poetry #29 |
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On this Thanksgiving Morning |
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rambling_words Junior Member
since 2003-10-29
Posts 44London, Ontario, Canada |
A flock of Canadian geese fly south over the Thames river their noise is the only sound I hear on this Thanksgiving morning perfect v shadows emerge below in the new light of this day a horizon of thoughts spinning inside my head images of movies and films of heroes visions of passions and creations of reflections those faces we have seen in dreams those places we have been in dreams people we may never talk to streets we may never walk on cobblestone and golden in my eyes tears and blue in my eyes when I see you for that first time after that last time when I let you walk away the truth hides itself in my soul waiting for you to free it if only for my conscious the sinners sleep less than the prayers white fog covering Ireland Irish whistles blowing through the rain of a crying god her hands on the shoulders of a poet as he writes for forgiveness as he writes for loneliness emptiness that never leaves for long nothingness that never seems like it will leave as an October sun rises out of the ground of an August field harvested and collected by the labour of hands filmed and framed by the colour of lands pieces of towns fragmented into our collective memories of movies New York City and London Paris and Hollywood a world cultured by American culture guns for fire and heroes for hire so I empty my vase of Chinese characters and place fresh flowers in its water I believe in the price of freedom on this Thanksgiving morning but I also questions the methods of protecting this freedom our red and white coffins are not as filled as those of the red, white and blue we are small but we do not have to be quiet when we are asked about the world it is out there, a place beyond our borders, long and undefended fresh water lakes and white snow mountains treasures to offer to the world treasures to offer to the girl who could see through my eyes at my world houses of mirrors reflecting hours of pleasures simple and sweet words of love and wisdoms of life circling like the clouds above waiting to descend out of the blue sky today is too perfect to be questioned tomorrow is too far to be questioned I will be thankful to be living on this Thanksgiving morning tomorrow I will go back to searching for you to live in my mind of dreams films of images and heroes of movies ordinary people with an extraordinary way of expressing their emotions. |
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| © Copyright 2003 John Raeside - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
uh...hmmm..I am kind of speechless.. How do you see so much? How do I see so little? Amazing... Susan "if you won't let me fall for you |
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suthern
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723Louisiana |
her hands on the shoulders of a poet as he writes for forgiveness as he writes for loneliness emptiness that never leaves for long nothingness that never seems like it will leave In the midst of so many wonderful lines, a portrait so familiar. *S* I like this very much! |
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
Incredible story...would you mind if I'd print up and keep this one...very much enjoyed. |
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