After two torturous years trying to understand and deal with my son's illness I learned I had RA. The first year with RA was painful and combined with my son's illness seemed unbearable at times. I wrote this poem in the middle of that struggle. The path is in a park near our home where I walk every day with my dog Joey. At night, in the moonlight the trees seemed haunted by my lost dreams and I would occassionally walk, shed tears, and wail against the unfairness of it all. And yet, when I read it now there's still hope there; hope that has brought me to a much better place today. If you read it, you will certainly see into my soul...hopefully it will connect with yours as well.
The Path
By Alan Duncan
The fog of breath on a cold winter’s dawn
Cast shadows on frosted rocks that spawn
Muffled fears that darken my heart,
Familiar tastes, bitter and tart.
Bare branches rattle on a brisk breeze
Light extinguished, the shadow flees,
Darkness subdued by a feeble light,
Glowing faintly, then bursting bright.
A song drifts by, riding the winds,
Whispering hope, a dream that bends
Despair into hot passion that flows
Into a luminous pool that glows.
I walk slowly and listen to angels sing,
A chorus of rapture, encircling ring
Of soul searching harmonies that light
The path that fills my sight.
Pondering thoughts, I stumbled on a rock
That scurried across the path to block
My journey, began with certainty I might
Encounter a sensual shriek of joy or fright.
The angels sang of immortality,
My soul surged with hope to free
The essence of a spirit bound to Earth
By rigid bonds conceived at birth.
Resulting in a solitary tear
That washed a streak through muddied fear,
Releasing squished dreams. Oh to repent
Of hopelessness in darkened corners spent.
The path twisted snake-like to a black bend
That beckoned luridly to those who’ve sinned;
Stretching desperately I longed to see
What hid beyond the path’s bended knee.
Candles burned, flickering bright,
Shadows danced, reflecting light,
Illuminating haunting insanity,
The painful glare dimmed to a desperate plea.
With courage consummated I sucked air
And crept around the bend to fear’s lair,
Exposed, my future dreams grew pale
Extinguishing a hope that’s doomed to fail.
The path beckoned, rigid and straight
Streaking to the horizon’s gate,
A hallowed doorway to a distant world
Hung with banners of grace unfurled.
The candles flickered, demons snickered
Breathing lies with breath liquored,
Casting doubt on the transformation,
Blotting out the revelation.
Dragging the demon darkness forward
With weary steps I surged toward
The open gates promise of sanctuary;
Bursting through, I dared not tarry.
The seething darkness shuddered and died.
The cold wind whimpered and sighed
A lonely duet with the night,
Then vanished in a brilliant burst of light.
And so, the path brought me home,
Completing the circle, released to roam
The boundaries of a new existence,
Free from the penalty of pain’s persistence.
Hot wax drowned the flame;
The candle dimmed, whispering my name.
The path grew faint in the dimming light,
And my soul found rest in the silent night.
I hope your path leads you to peace and joy,
Alan
Stunning Alan, truly stunning. Your wordcraft is quite poingnant. By sharing your reality first, I could much better undertand the meaning of your poetry. And the hope it does portray.Wow, very impressive.Very much so indeed.
Jode
Alan,
Once again, you touch my soul.
I feel that yours has found peace.
Blessings, Nini
I was hoping you would post another poem. Thanks.