A new poem… the Insistence of Now.
This was lying on my desk in a half finished fashion for a few weeks – not feeling very poetic with a lot of rewriting a novella that I am not quite happy with, as well as trying to finish my next novel and then get on to starting Silver Nights Two after the summer. But an early morning and a few empty moments during the festival brought back some inspiration yesterday…
The Insistence of Now
Scent of honeysuckle threatens to overwhelm my very senses,
The rushing river runs though thoughts, brushing them aside.
Mind relaxes, returns repeated ideas as if caught in a weir bind.
The sun settles on shoulder like a heavy hand, massaging me,
Rubbing the rush from my muscles to weight my eyes,
The screaming blackbird says, “now, now, there is only now,”
No next year and no deadlines, doing this and the same,
No indoors or episodes, books to read or be written,
Only drifting cotton down on which to lay my brain,
Just like in the street before the rocket, there is nothing in one’s
Pocket, nothing to drop for tomorrow, only the moment.
But I know the thrush trills only to threaten momentarily
While he flies to provide, and the deadline he spies
In the very slanting of the sun, feels the need to feed before
The river has full run it’s drops to the sea, only to be over run by more.