Poetry 'n Prose

The Brinksman

He ties the edge of the deep ravine
losing himself
in breathtaking terrain
with a finger that points beyond
the common bridleway.

He stumbles on before me
through an unoccupied country
hollering to get up there,
the sweeping cliff tops
in silence and a stillness
as the past and present gathers us for tomorrow.

He takes us along this tunnelling
in dark knowledge
beneath heart-mountain
and human need
where thoughts becomes rift valleys,
a glacial melt, drifting
before the plough, springing
in still water,
where peak mountains quake percussive
with clouds picking out
stormy showers

He leads us upwards through rocks
stepped by danger and discomfort
on the wind’s meandering path
and I, the prodigal son,
following in the extremes,
faltering behind
with distant memories,
love him so.

for my father

By 67paintings

A dialectical site of poetry, painting and the odd musical excursion into the unknown.

7 replies on “The Brinksman”

I love this one, Lee.
‘The wind’s meandering path…’
The passing year leaves behind a mosaic of thoughts, memories and hopes – it has been a year of extremes, but you have, my friend, made me hope beyond hope, love beyond love.
In this poem, you describe my own trepidation for life as it awaits us in the unseen part of the valley. You also assure me that it’s a journey…

Have a great year and let’s not count the days…

It’s a journey, its not one we can control, but one made meaningful one by the companionship we found. Thank you for being one.

Looking back over the last few years, and of late, I’ve felt the inner hunger that poetry creates. Sometimes it is too much to bear and at the point of surrender come a true sense of thankfulness … thankful for words, stories, music, dream. It all comes together in companionship, and every step is the journey.

And you’re right we don’t count the days because the destination is only ourselves, arriving at ourselves with a renewed peace.
Meena, I wish you the peace that I dream of, the peace in the mosaic painting, and the peace that offers a shared place in this world of trepidation to be good friends, companions, co-conspirators in creativity itself.

It’s a spiritual thing, and I look forward to cultivating it so much… beyond these words.

the words took me along that winds path…
feels emotional within that breeze
I wish for you the best that is yet to Be on your journey this Lee…
May it be all and more than you could ask for….
Take care…You Matter…

Thank you Mary, and may your path be with inner peace and a keen sense of wonder, in fact may you find this from the first foot step, each and every step. In gashho /\

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