After the silence

“… An awful lot of coming and going and swooping round of Christmas presents and the young rushing down to the shops for last minute things; at the moment there are quite a number of boxes of sweets, etc, here… That’s all very well here, but who are we bombing this Christmas Eve, Christmas Eve, who are we bombing on Christmas night, when the snow lies thick on the ground oh? This bloody silly war”.

Naomi Mitchinson

 

Worth a thought no?

Poetry 014: A thousand drums

A Thousand Drums

Sometimes, In the silence, very faintly
I hear the sound of a thousand drums.
As the rumble brews I remember;
the smell of the plains when it rains and the sun
Reaffirms his place in humbled sky –
making the supple grasses glitter in his rays,
The sound of crickets in the darkness,
singing to the jittering fireflies as the day
Slowly slumbers, the warmth of the fire
as it’s flames fly among the crackling piles,
The soft red earth – still harboring day –
calling out to all who hear…

‘dance’.

But the wind awakes me.
Saddened I cry out onto the concrete,
wailing as the sounds fade.

“oh fastidious time,
Tread softly,
For it is upon a dream you walk”.

© Denis Adide 2011

 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.