A Late Evening Stroll: (The Headland Hartlepool, September 19th,2020) Poem by DM W
A Late Evening Stroll: (The Headland Hartlepool, September 19th,2020)
As I walk along Hartlepool's Headland,
A bitter wind blows hard as the seagulls
Circle menacingly overhead. They
Seem to be monitoring the waves and
Rocks for signs of life, but all is silent.
My mind is filled with thousands of strange thoughts.
Grey, washed up fish are slowly dying on
This desolate beach. It seems that dreams are
Fading in the blue distance. Poor poets
Lag behind the 'opulence' of this age.
Modern life seems to speed by so fast from
Day to day. In the future, will there still
Be time for sacred songs? Will there still be
Time for the fine arrow of Beauty to
Make its' mark within humanity's heart?
Will people still communicate via
Obscure codes or return to sanity?
Will there be paths to true communion?
Will artists revel in their creations?
Will therapy still fill internal voids
Or will there be a return to true Light?
Will people still remember the profound
Words and ways of the prophets or will they
Renounce the blessed, old order? Perhaps, they
Will simply succumb to the whims of the
Market place and continue to worship
Regularly, like in secular times,
At the golden shrines of serpent like gods,
Which are elaborately designed, yet
Signify a poisonous nothingness.
As I walk along this desolate beach,
My mind is filled with thousands of strange thoughts.
Hope Must Rekindle Human Hearts society changes everything changes yet nothing changes the world turns people still fear tremble at uncertain futures beauty still enriches joy overwhelms love flourishes pain still persecutes broken tragedy hearts beyond every all disasters mild or major people must rise dust must resettle rebuilding start hope must rekindle human hearts Dedicated to the poet Dominic Windram.
I returned to pay tribute to this superb poem and to appreciate your 'mind is filled with thousands of strange thoughts' as you walked 'along Hartlepool's Headland'
society changes everything changes, yet nothing changes the world turns, people still fear tremble at uncertain futures, beauty still enriches joy overwhelms love flourishes, pain still persecutes broken tragedy hearts, beyond every disaster mild or major people must rise, dust must resettle rebuilding start hope must rekindle human hearts
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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6/3/2024 5:31:13 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Thanks for all your comments Terry...much appreciated! I posted, or assumed I'd posted, a longer reply but I'm not sure it's gone through.You write so beautifully, with such depth of thought and feeling, that I feel I owe it to you to provide a courteous response. I often get my best ideas when walking around the Headland here in the fairly small town of Hartlepool: North East England. I hope you are are keeping well. Take care and stay safe my friend.