A Crease of Night, to Day

Walking yellowed pages, inked, invisible their grit

Where weeds wear masks of blooming white, riddles to the path

I see the clouds give way to pale, a constant eye of calm

(And I wonder will it rain? I ask myself a certainty…)

Beyond the concrete jaded stones of all my conscious thought

Therein a ripple to the tide, pulls close, a fin of glossy grey

In falling light my vision lies and tells me of a twofold

(And I wonder did I toss a coin to know the side it fell?)

So on, and forward walking miles, and feeling human waves of memory

I climb only to turn and run, this life I know grasped hard in breath

To flooded concrete climbs of waterfalls for foolish minds

…a foolish mind of mine

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Paul McGovern
    Jul 20, 2012 @ 18:22:38

    Walking yellowed pages, inked, invisible their grit

    — the exploration of familiarity, the comfort or discomfort of known or well worn things

    Where weeds wear masks of blooming white, riddles to the path

    — the disguised nature of things perhaps

    I see the clouds give way to pale, a constant eye of calm

    — Hope… serenity in the turbulence

    (And I wonder will it rain? I ask myself a certainty…)

    — yet the awareness of certain inevitability

    Beyond the concrete jaded stones of all my conscious thought

    — An ethereal reference, again the image of well walked reality is presented

    Therein a ripple to the tide, pulls close, a fin of glossy grey

    — Oceanic reflection

    In falling light my vision lies and tells me of a twofold

    — duality

    (And I wonder did I toss a coin to know the side it fell?)

    — and exploration of such

    So on, and forward walking miles, and feeling human waves of memory

    I climb only to turn and run, this life I know grasped hard in breath

    To flooded concrete climbs of waterfalls for foolish minds

    …a foolish mind of mine

    — the difficulty of life engaged, the onslaught and the traversal of existence, the feeling of futility perhaps…

    Brave comments that I dare attribute to the lines you present. Some of what they signify to me anyway. I adore the poem, I feel your essence in each line. Thank you for sharing.

    Reply

  2. Evelyn
    Aug 04, 2012 @ 02:43:02

    oh, its that last line…and the repetition.
    beautiful

    Reply

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