LOOKING FOR LIFE’S SURPRISES
Originally written – 14.06.1986 and posted – 12.01.12 – Re-posted – 23.12.2019 as part of an Edenbray Retrospective
Looking For Life’s Surprises
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Grey bulging clouds hang like badly drawn curtains
broken by pinholes of lemon-gold laser light
whose beams create this epic set
And on the brow of skyline hill
green, grey and settled
like some armchair patient
Tripping and dancing into view
3 moorland ponies, 2 grey and 1
like silver-foil glinting
whose mane flickers and falls
Then I stood deep in woodland jungle
shielding my eyes as I searched endlessly
for the golden green drummer
whose beak drummed the hollow skins
of tall, ageless oaks
The brilliant sunlight falling and rising
in tiny motions on the rushing surface
of the passing stream which quarrelled
as well as babbled
I yawned and stretched
Where am I and am I really lost
from all gaze that is not heavenly?
Is this relentless pursuit of honesty fair?
And why even standing in dawn wind
and seeing nature unclothe its rarest beauty
Why, lost in the solitude of noon-day revelry
haunted by the strange mystery
of a woodpeckers work?
Why, when quietly musing and fashioning
moving pictures from rough-hewn
syllables and grey-edged words
Why do questions remain?
Was he right who said –
Must discontentment reign?
Or was he deceived by hearts illusions?
The misty dark clouds of reason
dented by life’s sadnesses and trials
– Or can we, like mythology’s phoenix
with feet as burnished bronze
wings charcoal and feather
heart burned and fused
beak gold like sovereigns
Can we lost in life’s metaphor
grope through, firmed by resolve?
to say yes, it has been worthwhile
For a moment, a flutter, a rush,
apple-green and lemon-yellow feather
crimson flash on chest gone
And I wait till again that resonating
distant putter and I am off
in search of a green woodpecker
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writtenbyedenbray14.6.86
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Why do questions remain?
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I think Bob Dylan has said fairly recently that he doesn’t really recognise his early compositions as his own. He feels like someone else wrote them. I concur with his sentiments when reading this piece that I wrote way back in 1986. A very reflective, melancholic and honest insight into both the authors heart and mind, I would say ~ edenbray today
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