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Click hereThere is a high, cold and arid plain
We each have visited in our time,
When the knife has cut and severed,
When all the final words are said,
When the vessel has been broken,
When the life has drained away.
Then again we find that we are standing
Alone, without protection from the wind.
The wind that searches,
The wind that pierces.
The wind that burns.
The wind that scars.
And memories come back to mock and haunt us,
Taunting us with what might have been
And our thoughts go round in circles,
Not believing that change has come.
Dry eyed yet not clearly seeing,
We find again the place where we have been
Some say that truth is eternal;
A love once lived will always be.
Others say she is a harlot
Who stays for just one day.
I only know the pain as certain
When that hateful wind caresses me.
As a fire clears a field of stubble,
So too will that wind make us clean.
Then back to living we will stumble,
To start again and find anew.
Then in our hearts all thoughts we'll bury
Of the lonely place where we have been.
Thank you Trixa, Ashe, 1201 (I have absolutely no idea what the ghost riders on the threads are), Oldbear & Tod.
These verses were written a good many years ago with certain specific losses very much in mind. This was sort of rolling them together and seeing then what was there.
The whole piece speaks to me as a man resigned to his fate but acceptance has been made.
strong masculine writing, the I will soldier the fuck on.
Your final stanza is as good as anything I have read.
I don't know that I have ever seen that kind of pain described as well, Clearday. Moving without being sentimental - even in the last stanza where it could have easily have gone that way. Strong, masculine, beautiful writing.
I like the structure of this
I like the words (maybe because I plastered ghost riders in the threads)
but these three lines are primo:
As a fire clears a field of stubble,
So too will that wind make us clean.
Then back to living we will stumble,
& the cycle goes on .....................5-ed.