Little Boy Blue
The paradigm
Unmoved by time ...
It always seeks me --
And builds upon from dawn to dawn since I was born.
Experience
Never relents;
It’s always teaching.
I go to sleep and there’s a deepening by morn.
The poignancy
That opens me
So like a rose;
It’s bittersweet each time it greets me with a thorn.
Expanding themes
Explain my dreams
And challenge me ...
To drop my pen and sound again the watchman’s horn.
The gilded age
Produced its sages
And its ghosts.
What cries they made when lives were frayed and rudely torn.
The echoes now
The worried brows
Return to tell us ...
That as we close we wear the clothes the ghosts have worn.
The climate change
Seems dire, strange
To us who face it;
Although we're told a new earth comes from one forlorn.
Some paradigms
Are not in time.
And all along ...
We might have learned had we not burned the natives’ corn.
-- RCG
Janet Devlin
Post a Comment
View Printer Friendly Version
Email Article to Friend
Reader Comments