FOR THE MISSING
The past is cathedral ruins,
roofless wonder of strewn stone
inhabited by rooks of memory.
Here we sit in darkened corners,
rooms where even silence shudders
as it awaits the future, not knowing
whether its blazing fire will
consume surrounding forests,
or if its light’s the fragile lantern,
flickering faith of an unknown
father come to take us home.
Now is tailspin panic of The Lost, fear
of children who (once, in a busy street)
let go of their mother’s sleeve and
for whom tall backs of strangers
forever seize her from their gaze.
well penned, kate.
fine poem, Madame Kate ... i have missed your work ...
Such a beautiful atmosphere in this poem, Kate, one that evokes the fragility of hope and longing and the fear and excitement of the unknown.
Axilea
to me to times of the past present and future
with subjects that slaps us with reality
Love & peace be with you
William
Begins with the decimated ruins caused by Henry viii now such vile carnage is accepted as "ooo, must see that lovely ruin, Dolly"
Then the fragile future, The future has always seemed fragile right back to Grecian times.
- tall backs of strangers - such an artfully use of image and words - dark, yet powerful, so very powerful.
Ones mind turns to the missing street children and those that are traffiked violating every human remains of civilisation.
Much of what you first wrote was perhaps trashed just leaving the concise clarity. Of time past, ahead and present, though do we, can we ever leave the present period? xx
As strange as it may seem, and I haven't done any real research on the subject, I believe our children are far safer today from abduction than they ever were in the past when the media did not pounce on every missing child, there was no Internet, and no Amber alert.
Ron
the few we do not think about on this day
of our celebration over our happy healthy children...
Excellent reminder...
Love and Light
Lily
Always,
Deborah
Wow...I wonder about these children every day. They need our prayers.
Love and blessings,
+Linda
George
Regis
Memory, unknown, and fear. If it light's the fragile lantern.
Enamored thoughts.
Lady Mary Ann
However, your "now" spins quite a tale to behold!
Peace love and light,
Amber
budd