|
The following poem was written in memory of children passed........
The Child of Light
I followed the path of a grey stone wall,
could see the gathering crowd,
and as i approached i heard a song,
a thrush who was singing aloud.
The people were all draped in black,
whilst the sky was a smokey grey,
And just as i reached, i was right at the back,
I heard them begin to pray.
Then through the throng a pathway cleared.
The front was now clearly in sight.
And my eyes were accorded a feast of delight,
for the colours were vibrant and bright.
The sound of the praying was lost to my ears,
my sight was accented and clear.
For there I could see, almost brought me to tears,
the flowers so loved and dear.
The reds were so red and the pinks so intense,
the yellows were golden and gay.
White also was present and fondled my sense
but violets seemed flowers of the day.
But one solitary flower stood out from the crowd.
In the centre attended in ranks,
A bright orange lily proundly held its head
as if offering to heaven its thanks
And from its bright trumpet a silence flowed.
It covered the crowd in its shower.
A mushroom shaped haven enclosing us all
oh, what a gift from a flower.
And then i could see a shimering haze
which began as a whisp of mist.
Formed from the haze came a wonderful child,
who approached a dark figure and kissed.
If only she saw it, if only she knew.
Her mother would now be so bright.
For the child at her side had returned from the grave
and appeared as a Daughter of Light.
Marshall Blackett
Copyright 2001
Magikmars@altavista.co.uk
|
