One Song

How then to mend the circle once it’s broken

Fragments of the arc lie scattered, ruined

Sensed circumnavigation of the planet, observation

Detecting dissonance in chords in every tune

 

How then to close the gaps, the cracks, the fissures

The depths disparate, destitute, wartorn

One voice, survival, compromise, under pressure

For the weak, the strong, the willing, for newborn

 

How to prioritise the issues pending

The global, national, each local scene

One love, one voice, one purpose, life unending

Humanity dependent on one song

 

How then to sing a song that may unite us

Which strings to strum, whose fingers must we trust

Whose voice to listen to that won’t divide us

Compassion’s rises strong for what is just

 

Compassion’s song is gentle, seeks solutions

Forgives repentance, swallows hardships whole

Her song is crying listen, I am waiting

One world, survival, love, one song, the goal

 

How then to hear her voice within the tumult

Discordant notes that cry please look at me

Amid the monotone of, ‘I’m alright’, we must intuit

How to detect the raft upon high seas

 

No less than we would do for our own children

With selflessness through eyes that see for miles

By beginning with one chord, accord, a chorus

With empathy, attenuating lies

 

One voice, one world, one chance, one song, one option

To see what must be seen through keener lens

One humanity, there’s only one, one choice then

Compassion’s song must be our truest friend

 

“O, wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as others see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us,
An’ foolish notion.”  Robert Burns

 

Optical Fusion

nucleus-178992-400-314

(source)

pensive waits and wonders

worried

weary

ruminating

rapt in broody thought

engrossed in melancholy

solemn

dreary

contemplating dots

that drift a lot

focus clears the haze

the woolly

blurry

sharpens to a point

the nucleus

anchors indistinct

from smoky shadows

clarifies to crux

the nebulous

elemental fusion

quite disarming

mists of time

and space

in clouded brain

explosive

in the focus

from the pensive

optic absolutes

now relative again

Sail With The Tide

Wake up to the morning with some hope upon your head,

No clouds on day to mar the view,

Soft pillow by your head,

A rushing calm, no winds on high to steer your ship astray,

Just soughing breeze and skies of blue,

A feather’d bed your day.

Let the ocean crash to shore, admiring motion, pull,

Waves are lapping where you lie,

Heart now growing full.

Tempests wreak their havoc on the greatest ships and small,

We set a course by sextant, stars

And rise before we fall.

Plot a course you want to go, a place you want to be,

A mindset mapped before you set

One foot on stormy sea.

Hoist your sails with travel advice ere you leave bedside,

Check direction, finger to air,

Set sail with the tide.

 

 

(No expert here on tall ships, no, nor sailing boats, nor cruise,

Just firm believer in sticking plaster

Before one sign of bruise.

Middle finger to the air helps too. 😛 )

 

Have a great day! ❤

 

 

Both Pedals And Paddles

Two wheels drawn on paper with a pedal in between,

The other on a side that I can’t see,

I wonder if, like lifeboat with one paddle for to row,

I’d cycle round in circles, out of steam.

Three-D is the answer to my pedal problem here,

And maybe to my rowboat and my life,

A little more perspective on the papers where I draw,

Two paddles and two pedals for less strife.

And maybe a few drawing lessons.