Sunday, 7 November 2010

4. Al-Quddus - Sacred Space

Suggests peace, union, cleansing --- Neruda 'Other days will come, the silence of plants and planets will be understood and so many pure things will happen'

Writer’s Block in a carriage

Like a stroppy teenager, one blank page defies
my intent to write words:
an empty mind and empty paper.
Silence, blank, nada – until I listen out
and hear this train trundle, rumble South.
I let a pen leak a few words
and some thing’s written down.

I learned the duties of a clown from Andrew:
at home in a world of nonsense,
turning up voltage again and again;
not perfectly perfect but urging
inclusion; connecting the hearts of some people
through smiles – with spaces between all their talking and words,
where, truly, a mystery lies.

In a hubbub, 
noise inside this room is loud.
No voice is ever quite as bold as Andrew,
my autistic son
- his voice is missing here.

He can sing – louder than a horn –
as long as loved ones standing near
listen to his rising tone,
resonate a chest, a core

and now I walk out through a door
to stand in rain, suck in the breeze
and clock a waving tree;
beat my beating heart.

Rehearsal
Same routine,
up at 5;
forgives himself
for last night’s
misdemeanors.

After all,
it’s only words!
Breakfast mind
plots away

and then comes back
to coffee and a roll.
Through a glass, he sweeps

a gaze at folly – every one
- and feels

a sudden thud of peace.

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