Monday, 16 January 2017

A Poem A Day 10.

Afternoon Catechism

Despondent, in the afternoon
heat, this dull interlude a siesta
in an already stalled existence;
painless and pointless, drifting,
waiting for a reason to achieve
something, anything significant,
though what that means, I hardly
know.  So few of us make waves
that anyone notices, and those
who do are rarely satisfied. So
little of my one, small essence
will ever be known, and I wonder
at the thorny gift of conscious
life and how in my own meagre
self I hold the wonder of a thousand
night skies, and the thunder of the
sea in full fury when king tides are
running and the moon is full at
year’s end and how in me there is
the miracle of birth and the layered
patina of uncounted griefs, lived
in raw reality and in the resonant
suffering of others and how I hold
stories of hope for a future long
beyond my span of days, and
memories, mine and collected, of
times in and beyond the hard limit
of my own mortalilty, which I
cannot make longer but perhaps
will make larger, since it does
not take a giant to encompass
eternity and even gods are human
just as even humans are gods.

Kerry Miller

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