Today, Prose For Thought, hosted by Victoria Welton at Verily, Victoria Vocalises opens for new entries once again. Oh, and today’s other event is that it’s World Poetry Day. So today – or, I should say, tonight – I’m going to post, er, well, a poem.
It’s one that I’ve blogged before, albeit in a slightly different context, but I’m doing so again, for two reasons; firstly [holds hands up] I haven’t got another one ready just yet, and secondly, the motivation behind this poem has increased since I wrote it, around two years ago. This is because I have come to know so many more people, through the blogging community, who have come through – or, indeed, are still going through – severe trials, of some kind, in their lives.
Now, statistically, this isn’t surprising; let’s say we instance five hundred people: OK, a certain percentage will suffer from this or that medical condition, or a certain nature of hardship, or will have a family member who does. If the national figures indicate that, say, 5% of the population suffer in a certain way, my sample will be likely to contain around twenty-five of them. But the striking thing to consider is how many people are going through these trials, yet maintaining a positive attitude, even though they need all the encouragement they can get. This poem is meant to figuratively represent the collective voice of all who desire to encourage others along the pathway of life and learning. It’s called…
The Song of Morning
Whatever yesterday has been –
Whatever horror you have felt or seen –
The song of morning gives to you her promised token:
Implants new fire with precious words now spoken
In a vista – in a touch – to those who have awoken.
For she is a song that is alive and has a being –
Has eyes to give a smile – not just for seeing.
Yet see she does the sadness of her friend –
Comes with a fragrant balm the wounded heart to tend;
Into that inner space her love she dares to send.
She calls to tell you what is truly ‘morning’.
Yes! Whispers softly what is truly ‘dawning.’
More than the change of fingers on a clock –
More than a working day’s fresh culture shock –
More than another ship called Duty making dock.
A clear horizon melts from blue to gold.
The story of today is waiting to be told.
The song of morning offers you a hand to hold
So that you need not walk uphill alone,
Nor yet despair of finding answers yet unknown.
The song of morning takes you in her arms,
Invokes the waking breeze to soothe dread qualms;
Caresses you with new sunlight and calms
The fevered mind with sights as yet unseen,
Whatever yesterday has been.
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