Details |
Chris Hoar Poem
I can see you dancing on the lawns, innocence,
laughing, running, arms carefree and unabashed.
Your vision holds me, as if held in a moment of such
happiness and magic that I can barely think to breath.
But as a distant sound breaks my dream, I feel the
emptiness once more.
No warmth of a breeze can break my fall from that high
place.
How then should someone address their loneliness
when all that was their life has gone from their touch.
When all that changed them from nothing to something
has itself turned to nothing but for an aching love.
It cannot be left by the bed in the morning when you
wake and picked up again at a time of nostalgia,
or left downstairs when you ascend the steps at night
in hope of sleep.
It is you and it is your love... it is what you have
and it is why you are....
Emptiness ... fullness of feeling... it is because
they were... and they still are.
Copyright © Chris Hoar | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Chris Hoar Poem
What furrowed brow now looks down upon this place,
where hawks and doves dwell in peace?
What wrenched heart beats to the drum of such turmoil
yet finds rhythm in this breeze?
When all men find this place where will I go?
For these streams are my streams, these cloven hills
shine lavender for my eyes.
I have harnessed all to my end, but now with the
passing of time more come.
I have dressed in beauty and guarded sanctity with all
the vigour and strength my aging limbs muster.
But I grow weak.
Do I learn to trust that all who walk abroad will keep
it as it was?
Or do I lament knowing change will come?
Do I leave and live my last days asunder where my eyes
can not whiteness the breaking?
Or do I stay and hold my hand to the wind and with my
last strength turn them away?
You knew, but never did you say.
Copyright © Chris Hoar | Year Posted 2007
|