 Each day, I stand upon the circle.
With gratitude, forever present. No thought, to yesterday or morrow. Just here, to witness lunar crescent. With orange, the dawn has broken. There’s dew, upon this carpet green. Sprinkled webs, still in the making. Spirit’s here, it already seems. On bended knee, a prayer is started. A prompt, once more to dance. Tobacco pouch, at the ready. To greet this day, with pure romance. Mayflies, hover on warm updraft. Wren, hops upon the fence. Blue Tits, in and out of boxes. Bees, buzz towards the scent. Golden shafts, draw me in connection. Stretching up, I peer to see. Beyond, I sense the black sun. My heart beats, to infinity. I call, upon the warrior. The nurturer and the child. Some days, it’s ever so stormy. Others, more benign and mild. There’s no change however, to this ritual. For I’m committed, to this path. A joy to perform, this spiral. With mirth and mirk, I bath. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2021 If you care to comment on this poem at all and the emotions that it brings up for you then please feel free to do so below.
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 What does it take, to make your best ever stand.
To go shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand. Giving back to your brother, support to the land. Spontaneous in the moment, or otherwise planned. Placing arm around comrade, planting ally in heart. No longer to be separate, no longer apart. For together we are leaders, stepping forward as one. No task is too great now, no mission left undone. For now in the decision, one must make one’s own choice. To sacrifice oneself, for the sound of one’s voice. To lend support to a vision, an insight to a dream. An eye for an eye, no more authority meme. A contemporary figurehead, has more compassion to deal. To be true, more authentic, to love and to feel. To be centred and grounded, aligned and stood plumb. Not to be pushed, or prodded, placed under the thumb. For we’re not for turning, conviction runs through. Gauntlets are laid down, swords ready with crew. For now it is opportune, no time left to wince. Where we are at arms, no need to convince. We’re on our mettle, determined in our stance. Passionate for our cause, a campaign filled with romance. We’re the ones we’ve been waiting for, to that we hold dear. Our position is so solid now, we live without fear. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2021 If you care to comment on this poem at all and the emotions that it brings up for you then please feel free to do so below. |
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