Silent soldiers lying still
After the battle
I remember
And I write
Words seeking time
In some future dream
When the Flanders torch
Shall not be passed
We will no longer ask
The young to die
For causes wrought
Upon the lie
Of righteousness
A time when poppies bloom
In their rightful spring
Not this remorseful
Autumnal rite
No longer red
No blood be spilled
But lovely white
Our peace fulfilled
Soothed
By gentle light
And subtle colour
Fall’s transition
Life retired
The air goes cold
Wafts of change
Await the spring
To be renewed
Walking past
Eyes turned away
She would never sit there again
Not without him
From bathers and sun-seekers
The summer of crowds
To seekers of solitude
Contemplative connection
With Earth and sea
And self
Like when we’re in Kakadu
And it’s October
Which is fall
Except it’s early spring
Yeah, spring in Australia
I paused. Reflected. Then, “have you ever known something to be true, absolutely true, even though there was no way you could know it to be true, because there was no reason to think it was true? Something you can’t explain to anyone else, even explain to yourself?”
Sometimes the path I must follow seems
All lit up
Just for me
So that even in the darkness
I can follow The Way
And then
I am able to
Truly see