The consolation of my age
Is to at last find truth
Beyond the futile fists of rage
So ready in my youth
I see in someone else's eyes
The truth I know as you
To my surprise I realize
That you are my friend too
Shrinkwrapping problems down to size
Discerning false from true
For one who grew up in a cage
And never really knew
The thinking-over of it all
Heads my heart home to peace
The way a leaf must in the fall
Learn to embrace release
As all who live must learn to die
Just as we learn to live
As most by my age learn as I
Have had to so I give
An idea which could be advice
Were I to give such things:
All we need to do is be nice
To rise upon such wings
As given any commonday
Song sparrow as it sings
Get off the floor and score some more
Empathy in the afternoon
Whatever someone else might say
My consolation brings
Me out once more to dance the moon
Which though it wax and wane
Will always be up there and soon
As empty fills again
The moment of fulfillment shines
Nor does it shine in vain
Thousand-faced on moonflower vines
As we forget the pain
Of strangers here in stranger-land
Who need not be told twice
Still strangers but who understand
All we need to do is be nice
I really do think this is absolutely wonderful a write. I read each word and pondered over each verse. I find being nice is the correct thing to do in this world and if some people take your advice it would be a better world.
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
This collection of poetry addresses the nature of time, reflections on the natural world, the difficulty of loss,
contemporary social issues and gratitude for life.
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(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Mary