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To which image should we cling?
Trailing clouds of glory do we come
The magical moments of childhood
When we felt at one with the universe
Spinning dizzily with delight
Or with more of horrible and awful
That even to name is sorrowful
Bound helplessly with flu in bed
Unable from the pillow to raise my head
And wishing the world would just go away
Paralysed by the loss of power to move
Maybe it is not so much
The image to which we should cling
Rather that the images should cling
To us
Providing our distinct identities
The yardstick of our recollections
The holding of our first born close
Those bedtime stories where
The kids cling on to every word
Just before into euphoric sleep they drift
When we slip softly from the room
Switching off the bedroom light
With their minds now deep in dreams bright
Choosing one image is far beyond me
I much prefer the whole of the family tree.
Copyright ©
Denis Bruce
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