Tough

My daughter recently graduated as a textile designer with a first class honours degree and I am so proud of her.  She has since exhibited twice in London and has been invited to a prestigious event in Paris this weekend as one of the top graduates in her field to exhibit there too, plus she has a fantastic opportunity interning for a company in London.  I am really excited for her, and I desperately need to be earning a decent wage to help with the rent of her flat.  However, work at the moment is in short supply, and a troublesome persistent cough has also sent me back to hospital for a chest x-ray.  I’ve lost about a stone in weight in a very short time, but of course it could also be down to stress (I hope so).  So, more hospital appointments, blood tests and so forth.  Life keeps throwing things at me; I get up ready to have another crack at earning a crust, but then something else comes along and kicks me in the face, and I somehow have to struggle to my feet and carry on again.  But I have to admit I feel weary at the moment, weary and tired, and just hope like my friend in hospital for a chink of light.  I so want to be positive for Lucy and be there for her, but in spite of me trying hard to fake it, I’m not great company at the moment.  Life is so bloody tough sometimes. 

Poem Of The Week - Autumn Is Coming

I guess everyone remembers where they were when they heard the terrible news of when two aeroplanes crashed into the world trade centre.  Today of course is the anniversary of that tragic and needless event that made the world a different place and lit the fuse for unimaginable conflict in the Middle East too.  I heard the news from my wife who called me on my mobile while I was walking through Wales with a friend and his dog, tracing the path of the River Severn.  We had to make a diversion for a while, and join the river at a different point, and I can remember clearly how beautiful and breath taking it looked as we suddenly walked through a coppice and began to descend into the valley below, where the sun sparkled on the river and made one feel grateful just to be there and see it.  Sarah rang me from the school where she taught, and said that parents were arriving to pick up their kids telling horrendous stories of a tower or something in America that had been hit by an aeroplane.  Sure enough when we eventually reached a small town and stopped at a pub for some refreshment, the bar was crowded with people staring disbelievingly as those now iconic images of the two planes crashing into the towers were played over and over again.  This is the poem I wrote that night when we arrived at our guest house.

AUTUMN IS COMING

The wind is keen

And the sky is bright and clear

The fields around are as green as Eden

The leaves on the trees in the nearby coppice

Tinkle a dry song

Apprehensive of the coming autumn fall

As I turn the bend over the hill

The river suddenly comes into sight

And it’s beautiful

The sun has dropped diamonds on the surface

And the river dazzles

Takes my breath away

Makes me stop and gaze

And be thankful that I am here

Feeling the wind blow around my head

Hearing the trees whispering their autumn song

Feeling the damp grass

Carpet my way down to the valley floor

To the banks of the flowing river

And I say to myself

Remember this moment

Remember where you are and how you feel

Remember how the wind blows around your head

How the trees sound as they sway slowly in the distance

How the grass feels like a carpet beneath your feet

Remember how normal and unique this moment is

How nature still endures

And surprises us with its magical paint box

Studding a river with jewels

Stopping a man in his tracks

Making him gaze with wonder and gratitude

Remember

For moments like these are as rich and rare

As a pearl rescued from the bottom of a cold, deep sea

Because the world is a different place now

And will never be the same again

Two aeroplanes

Two towers

And the world has changed

From across the sea

Thousands of miles from here

Where the trees whisper

And the wind makes the grass dance

Thousands of miles from here

Where a river in a valley shines like a rope of light

Far from here

Where the landscape breathes peace into the air

Far from here

A City is bleeding

Children are crying

Dust is falling

Their parents are dying

Autumn is coming

Poem Of The Week - It Is Time To Return To The source

 THE RIVER SEVERN POEMS

A series of poems commissioned by BBC Radio 4 in the voice of the River Severn, voiced by Jane Lapotaire for three plays called - Plays Of The Severn, including - A magnificent Prospect Of The Works by Peter, Roberts, Just Another Tunnel by Christopher Denys, and A Little Bit o' Bacon Fat by Martyn Read in December 2000. 

The plays charted the course of Britain's longest river through history and landscape; the voice of the river ran through each play.  The poems were also added to with a journey I later undertook to trace the course of the river from its source to the sea.  So this poem, It Is Time To Return To the Source wasn’t written for any of the plays, but was my personal reflection on walking the length of the Severn, understanding the purpose of a river; and I suppose it could also be seen as a metaphor for how seemingly small insignificant moments in our lives can also be important, and touch others without us even realising it as we all walk inevitably to our journey’s end.

IT IS TIME TO RETURN TO THE SOURCE

It is time to return to the source of the river

To go back to the beginning

Where muddy water bubbles up

through the soggy earth

And trickles its way over stones

worn smooth with the sculptor's soft caress

It is time to trace my way back

To find the meaning of a river

And see how a tiny cut

Bleeds a puddle into a stream,

into a river, into a sea

Here is a journey of patience

The earth has opened a tiny vein

To feed an artery

To fill the heart of an estuary

And breathe life along its way

And I can feel time

calling me back to the source

To see how simple things

can become grand and important

To see how a muddy puddle

can become an ocean

and make a whole planet live.