(A poem inspired by, and in response to, NW).
there are worlds without, and worlds within
oceans of meaning, faith and sin
there is no prize that self can win
but to be strong.
there are stories that must remain untold
tales of darkness, blood and gold
of visions bought and virtues sold
for a small thread of song.
there are things that are true and things that lie
times to dance and times to cry
it might be best not to question why
none of them last long.
there are pulses of feeling, coming, going
love in great waves, and deep pools of knowing
and ledgers of debt and mountains of owing
just to belong.
there are bodies of skin and bodies of thought
instincts to act, and lessons well taught
in heart or in mind or in soul, all are caught
off the island, part of the throng.
there will be quiet and filmed eyes and sod at the end
bodies cast off, only memories to tend
don't ask what it meant - who knows, only send
the boat to the dark, right or wrong.
- Kathy, 23/10/12