The Tipping Point

The Tipping Point-Oct 15 2017-hubble pic of week - dec 2015

There comes a time to say, “Stop!”
Stand to the wind and scream it,
Throw your essence internal through the word,
Hammer fists in the air,
Stare defiantly at the sky,
Until emptiness fills your soul,
Shake your head, your whole body,
Then turn and walk
To a different future,
Carrying the silence.

***

© 2017 Robin McShane

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Spring Returns – After Summer Begins!

Spring Returns - September 24 2017 - The Crab Nebula - Hubble

 

Ah! Spring returns with a fresh morning nip,
Summer abates with its burning hot tip.
A short reprieve? Or a cyclic return?
Cool, cloudy morns replace sunrise first burn.
‘Tis an abnormal load nature now brings,
To a table so changed the death bell rings.
The moments we cherish slip fast away,
We speed through our lives, our minutes, our days.
What was before doesn’t seem to exist,
Yet still we hold on, our thinking persists
To make it what was, zone comfortable,
And keep it the same, rock tight with our will.
Yet it cannot be so, weather predicts,
Spring, summer, fall come at Gods own edicts.

***

© 2017 Robin McShane

Note: following my previous posts regarding the early arrival of summer, today, all change again!

Destiny Unfurled

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Where once we stumbled naturally,
We now stand proud and tall.
Life beat us down, took our pride,
Yet now we’ll take that fall.

For journey’s end is not in sight,
Destination far,
As pathway’s passage, moments lived,
Prepare for next step’s star.

Flowing through the gates of life,
Being as before,
It matters not in mind or soul,
For from the body tore

Differences between then and now,
Not seen nor felt nor heard,
But soulful touches, deeper strokes,
Destiny unfurled.

***

Finding My Way

Finding My Way - July 18 2016

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I found myself in times gone by,
Sinking low then rising high,
Riding waves, some low, some steep,
Floating tides, experiences deep,
Taken to the fullest seen,
My life’s perspective, clear and clean,
Then clouded by bright thoughts around,
Of others perceptions, circling sounds,
Losing grip on my own path,
Led astray by thoughts and tasks,
Other people’s sense, idea,
Of my perception, why I’m here.

Taking breath and holding course,
Now finding my way back to source.

 

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Memories In Winter

blurred stars - pixabay

Winter bites
As every year
The bite forgotten
Through summer’s haze
Until sharp teeth
Pierce skin and bone
And warmth becomes the memory

Yet memories belong to us
As we see it now
As it was then

Yet, maybe, it wasn’t

****

© Copyright 2016 Robin McShane

Time Moves

 

crowded where you live

Time arrives,
Flying in through open windows,
Displaying scenes from life,
Fleeting, fleeing, freeing.

Years leave,
Walking out through closed doors,
Leaving experiences now gone,
Fleeting, fleeing, freeing.

****

© Copyright 2016 Robin McShane

Burning Days

For NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2016 – Day 26 (Not to prompt)

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Dark days filled with warm collusion
Took my blood and boiled it
Stripped my skin and framed it
Left it out to dry
Displayed for all to see
And judge

I watched from afar
As children danced around a fire that was me
Undaunted by the tainted smell
By the touch
Of death
And the putrid satisfaction
Of those who wish to
Have more
See more
Die more

Chance took me afoot
Flying near the edge
Wings crisped by burning sunlight
Thrown out across the heavens to
Want more
Show more
Be more

Only one way left now

****

© Copyright 2016 Robin McShane

Hope

For NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2016 – Day 24 (not to prompt)

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People plead for food
In plaintive cries
That echo through the valleys.

Water flows from empty taps
That dry the land,
Leave bones
Reaching for the sun,
Brittling
As they crumble to dust.

People stare through dead sockets,
Fighting for life,
Killing for control.

My brain empties.

I walk to nowhere,
My soul clings to itself
Without understanding
Or knowledge,
Confused beyond belief,
Believing beyond confusion
That there must be a rock
Melting fluidly with the flow,
Holding all within its feel,
Feeding soil and being,
Giving life where there is only void.

© Copyright 2016 Robin McShane

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Owner or Steward?

For NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo2016 – Day 16 (not to prompt)
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When Kublai Khan his world decreed,
No-one answered, disagreed,
He owned the land, he owned the realm,
Those who argued he would overwhelm.

Oh, to be supreme as he,
To own the land, the sky, the sea,
Yet really…did he own it all?
With his death, where did it fall?

His chosen one already dead,
Kublai left it to the son instead,
So, who owns what at end of day,
As this planet spins in the Milky Way?

We fight and die over…over…well what?
A piece of land that’s worth a jot?
A bauble, some gold, a shell or some art,
Well, what would you give for a shot in the dark?

For I think that I own what I have while I’m here,
Forgetting the day when I’ll leave this blue sphere,
And then, when I’m gone, only space left behind,
Will people fight over all I thought mine?

Where is the value?

****

© Copyright 2015 Robin McShane