I stand by the road
Watching the sun rise:
Dissipating the early morning fog
Which has hung like a blur
Across the landscape.
The frost freezes my toes and fingers
And my breath, a smoky dragon breath
Hangs in the morning air.
First there was nothing
Not a hand before my face
Could be seen in the dark whiteness;
As though the world was lost to me.
Even the sounds were muffled.
But then comes a glimmer
Turning grey to yellow
So that cloudiness
Thins into suffused brightness.
And then with one intense burst of sunlight,
The world throws off its murky past.
And all that seemed lost is found.
The birds trill their morning greetings.
And the road ahead emerges,
A winding, uncertain track
Reaching into the distance.
But now I know which way to travel.
I start out, gladly, full of hope.
I wrote this poem as a metaphor. It is about emerging from depression. It is possible to feel lost, as though every person, thing and place we know has changed and disappeared from our lives; as though we are cut off and shrouded from the world and can find no future. That is the dark night in the fog. However, gradually, oh so gradually light emerges; we begin to see a way forward and no matter how uncertain it is, it is so important to recognise the way and take the chance. For there is always a way forward, no matter how far we have sunk into ourselves.
Seeing things askew
Creates different points of view
Bringing insights new.
I wonder how many of us are stuck in our ways; only seeing the world through the common point of view, which suits ourselves. Taking a ‘skewed’ perspective can be positive. It makes for a new look at the world as we know it and we can begin to discover things we weren’t aware were there. Have you ever looked at something and suggested to a child, “Look at that,” while seeing something which is obvious to us, only to discover that the child only noticed the insect in the grass or the dog at a person’s feet?. Is the child’s vision a skewed vision? Is it any less valid than our own? Are our skills of observation so blinkered, that we forget to look further than the obvious?
Air-filled sac blowing in the wind;
Something from almost nothing;
Soap and water bringing rainbow delight.
Magical bubble, fighting the air
Shapeless trying to find globular.
Cause of laughter and joy
A giggle-maker, encouraging the chase
And a huge urge to destroy
To burst the bubble and stand back
In triumph, waiting for the next.
Essence of floating transparency
Dreams in the air floating skyward
Distractor from reality which reawakens
Our childhood innocence and wonder.
Dear Jane unbeknownst
A mentor across the years
Textbook how its done.
No one could deny that Jane Austen showed how to write a Victorian novel; something that would appeal to the bored middle class women with time on their hands and a longing for a romance. Testament to her success we are still making films based on her books and they are regarded as ‘must’ studies.
This is a photo of Jane’s statue in Basingstoke, which was her nearest town in her early years when her father was rector at the village of Steventon.