Thursday, December 13, 2012

A Guided Stroll





You watch and determine day from night

You linger past the moonlight’s afterglow, well into the promenade looming behind a crested pounce of wave

Evenings are but intermediaries to you

And your centurion’s cage is, at most times, evenly divided into quadrangular partitions of sky

You watch A hour half past six or a
Five months from now—wherein, affixed the
Light stays as strikingly as ever remembered

Or if noncommittal, than your alternations harp accordingly—
To where a number of factors alit the present face, to which, of course, your eye catches each fractured toil and fragmented stint,

You are born
You are beneath
You are besides
And you’ve always been between

Yet it is here where you allow your form to follow form and not in that “some other time of year,” where flesh glistens by moonlight, dances it’s hypnotic tides across the serenity of it’s mystic shores

It isn’t always always fair, just, deserved, proper, adequate, moral, ethical or right. Yet you evaluate all things as if they are all cut from identical tapestries

It may not even be considered plausible to the well-magnified test of eye. You not only understand this, but appreciate it as well.    

You always seem to deliver us the current’s time of day

You notice and then proceed to oversee the fourteen lights and you remember that twelve of these originate a lake; one from a river and the other is a long and winding stream.  


You hear a swift sound.  It scurries quickly across the rocks
You hear the rasping quicken but do not inquire upon its source. 
You are not curious, for you are fully aware. 
You know it is but a sound.  You know rats abound this place, as they nest their families near the grates of drains.  You fear them not and understand them completely.

You declare that they’ve been unjustly defined. Your posture alleviates apprehension.  Your loving tone quells the fears that may have otherwise stirred within.  You indicate that while they are truly a rambunctious lot, it is only that they are consumed by restlessness and are but solely happy to be, invigorated by a life that does not ignite until only after darkness has fully blanketed the light of day.

You bend over slightly.
As you do, your robe sways softly in the salty air.
You reach down and return aligned.
You are smiling as you hold the smallest of them.
It fits within the palm of your hand.  It is malnourished.  You provide it the sustenance it needs.
You take hold of me.  Your grip is firm and strong.  It is comforting to hold.  You lead us down the break-wall, taking us to its very point. You see my reluctance and whisper to my soul, “follow me and you will not fall, for I love you as I love each and all.” 
You disappear, yet I still feel your hand in mine. As the surf tickles heel to toe, you’ve filled me with all I’ll ever need to know.

Later today, stop on over to D’Verse where the exploration into point of view continues with this week’s Meeting The Bar.

13 comments:

  1. If only we would listen more and be guided. This is a lovely testament to faith, hope and love, Fred.

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  2. Yet it is here where you allow your form to follow form and not in that “some other time of year,” where flesh glistens by moonlight, dances it’s hypnotic tides across the serenity of it’s mystic shores
    This came with a revelatory shock. I felt I was appreciating even where I didn't fully understand!!

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  3. wow i feel like i know the person after reading this fred...ha....a few things that jump out at me....there is a section where you really pair it down..

    You are born
    You are beneath
    You are besides
    And you’ve always been between

    which makes it pop...and then the picking up of the animal in the end, really love that part....very cool man...

    this was not easy, i am not used to 2nd person, ha...finished mine and will pop it up here in a bit

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  4. Great flow, as along the path you go. A little appearing and disappearing inbetween here and there, as the sheets blare is oh so rare, may raise ones neck hair. Quite the interesting trip at your lair.

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  5. You disappear, yet I still feel your hand in mine. As the surf tickles heel to toe, you’ve filled me with all I’ll ever need to know....so much comfort in this...such deep knowledge of his provision... beautifully penned fred

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  6. this is beautiful. learning so much from all of you wonderful poets at dverse.

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  7. Wow Fred ~ I love the flow, firstly being mysterious, then suddenly I understood its presence ~ I specially love the last stanza ~ Exquisitely divine writing ~

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  8. so much depth to this write... so many lines that could stand alone

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  9. Fred, the structure led me through the poem and I felt myself hurry to find out who "you" was with hints here and there that led to the conclusion. This is a beautiful reflection. Thank you.

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  10. "...filled me with all I’ll ever need to know." strong ending,and what a feeling to have.

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  11. That was quite a journey, Fred. I loved the way this poem progressed, and I felt as if I got to know the 'you' of this poem. You are a good writer of 2nd person. These lines were truly inspired lines:

    " You disappear, yet I still feel your hand in mine. As the surf tickles heel to toe, you’ve filled me with all I’ll ever need to know. "

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  12. I have so much to learn. Seems like everyone else got it -- though they did not leave clues for me either. But could not figure out who the "You" is and the title did not help me. And I read it twice. I will keep trying, though, Fred. Thanx for your comments -- which I understand superbly.

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