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Why do we live?
Why do we die?
Do we live so that we can die?
Do we die so that someone can live?
Should we smile after we have cried?
Should we cry for those who will always be in our hearts,
and who we will always be with?
To forget is not in our nature;
to remember is in our blood;
to pay tribute is like creating a door;
to memorialize the fallen is to keep alive the memory
of those who once ran, walked, waited, stood;
to wear a symbol of respect and remembrance
is a hopeful token that costs nothing,
but is worth more than any money could buy;
to feel and to think about what someone must have been through
is a wonderful thing;
to glimpse even for a second that which
someone may rather try to hide
shows you in a glaring and glorious light;
to lay down a flower, a wreath, a thought,
even if you are doing so for those
who will always be a complete stranger,
is like a burst of colour in a field
on a beautiful day in spring.
Every fallen hero had a life-time of dreams;
every child fears the monsters of their nightmares;
every man and woman marching forward to a beat
knows what loyalty and duty means;
everyone who does what they can for someone in need
knows that life for all its magic and beauty
is not always fair.
Every person can make a difference;
every person we meet can be a guardian angel;
every person can be a guiding presence;
every person’s reputation precedes them,
and whether they know it or not
that sense of who they are
is always floating on the surface of a perceptual ocean,
until it rises fully and becomes visible.
There can be only one life for everybody;
there can be only one body for every life;
there can be lots of ways to remember someone,
and one of the best ways is to keep thinking about them,
to keep loving them, and whenever you look for someone
and need someone they are who you will see,
and they will be always a part of the dreams that you have at night.
When we take our final step on our life’s path,
and we step to the side, and stop and watch
the rest of the world, the rest of the universe, pass us by,
we can rest, we can be at peace, we can shine,
and be there for our loved ones,
like we have always been looked on and protected
by those who came before us who reside in the light of the stars,
that is when we realize that we never leave each other,
because we are always together-
no matter how close, or distant;
no matter how near, or far.
It’s so important to never forget.
One of the greatest things we can do in life is remember.
It’s a gift to be able to hold on to the memory
of somebody special that you know like a brother, or a sister,
or even the face and the legacy of someone you never even met.
You need to hurt and feel pain
before you can try to make sense of any loss,
and over time that intense maelstrom of emotion
will transform and again remind you why every day of life,
and the lengths that we sometimes have to go in life,
are significant and essential beyond measure.
Everyone needs time to close their eyes,
take a breath, and refocus,
and even though when we do lose someone before their time
we do need to mourn them,
and we should all look for the signs
that they are indeed still around in some form, or another-
because a soul is the purest and the most amazing energy there is,
and the same energy that created and sustains the universe
every second, and which cannot be forgotten, or destroyed, ever.
Life is like a library,
and every person, plant, animal, thought, invention, and memory,
is a book and a source of reference in that library
that we can all choose to read and reread if we feel the need.
So much happens for so many reasons that we will never understand,
but that is why we have to appreciate every face, every cover,
every name, every page, every addition, every edition,
of every life that is born, written, lives-
because everything is a thing of beauty,
and no matter how you may feel sometimes,
you and the world can only go in one direction,
and if you are truly open to the constantly changing
and evolving twists and turns that everyone faces
you will knowingly fulfill the potential of your life,
and all life, and when in the possession of such knowledge
there is no knowing where the road of your life will lead.
I saw a black swan on the river today,
swimming in the ice-cold morning air.
Alone the black swan made its way without a care-
one of the most amazing sights I have ever seen,
the swan captured my attention
and stimulated my imagination almost immediately.
The stark contrast of its beautiful black feathers and its red beak
to the white of the surrounding snow.
As it made its way down the river
the black swan looked up at me as it passed me,
and for a second we two exchanged a gaze that stunned me-
so much so that I watched until it left my sight
and went to where I was unable to follow.
I had never seen a black swan before, but on this day of all days
I was not lost on the significance of its symbolism and meaning.
Seeing the black swan,
as I made my way to say my final goodbye to a good friend,
made me stop and think
on this personal journey of remembrance that I was taking,
that the world was trying to tell me something,
that I was going to receive a gift on this day
that would be for me and for me alone to understand,
but the consequence of that would be heart-breaking.
I had attended my friends funeral, but I hadn’t really said goodbye;
I had written a poem describing how I felt about their passing,
but I felt that I hadn’t really spoken to them as I always had;
I felt that simply attending my friends funeral service
and sharing my sorrow with their family was not enough-
in my mind, I thought that I needed to go back to their grave
and reconnect with them in some way,
so that I may hear them again,
and maybe I would stop feeling sad.
The snow covered everything in the graveyard,
but I remembered where the body of my friend now lay
without a second thought.
The wind was bitterly-cold as I stood facing the frozen Earth
above and below the now empty shell of my friend.
As I spoke to them in hushed-tones hoping that they could hear me,
because I knew that my memory was quickly fading
and that time was growing short.
After standing with my head bowed in solace and in silence
remembering everything that I could about my friend,
an image of the black swan that I had seen began to grow in my mind
until it was all that I could think about-
and then, above me, to my awe, shock, and astonishment,
I looked up and saw a black swan flying in the sky over-head,
and I fell to the ground at the sight of the black swan’s wings
outstretched like a dark angel ascending to the white-coloured clouds.
After regaining my footing,
I was fortunate to just catch the sight of the black swan
before it disappeared into the fog of the horizon-
as I did I swore that I heard my name being spoken somewhere far-away
in a whisper that I could barely hear,
but its depth of resonance was unmistakable-
like the crashing waves of an ocean.
Making my way home, the gift that I had received continued to ring in my head.
My memory of the swan that I had seen was glowing,
as if I had seen it in infrared.
I felt this feeling in my heart that my friend was still here in some way-
that their part to play in the universe was now proceeding on a different path-
that they will return to life in other forms, their essence will never be gone.
I had thought it impossible to accept the truth of my friends death,
and to try and reconcile the reason for his return to the source of all life,
until I saw the beauty, and caught the gaze, of the black swan.
I wore my poppy with pride today,
I wore my poppy with honour, with reverence,
with a full, but a heavy, heart,
as I thought about the cost our world of heroes has had to pay.
I walked in silence,
and I stood in stillness,
in the shadow of the cenotaph to the lost and to the fallen-
I looked above to the monument, and to the sky,
and I wished that I were a poet who could express
what I was thinking, and what I was feeling, at that moment
to all and to everyone.
I wear my poppy today, because I am thankful to be alive;
I wear my poppy today, because I cannot, and can never, forget
my brother, my sister, my own,
who believed, fought, sacrificed, and died, for me-
whose names should be revered and remembered for all time,
and always survive.
I walk in silence,
and I stand in tears,
casting a shadow in the midday sun on the monument to humanity, Earth,
as I, we, lower our eyes, head, and heart, as-one in peace,
and in hope that Earth will one day live as a world war-free;
standing united with the faces, and the fate,
of the world we made, and the world to come,
each of us wearing a token of our gratitude-
me, I am wearing my poppy.
Never forget
A roaring fire; the sound of Christmas songs playing in the background;
the opening of brightly-coloured wrapped gifts;
a feeling of love and joy all around.
Christmas has always be been my favourite time of the year-
the coming together of family,
and the remembrance of those who are no longer here,
to me is the most important part of Christmas: the day, the season, the cheer;
to me Christmas is a celebration of our present,
and whom and what we hold dear.
I love the wrapping of presents,
I adore the giving of label-adorned packages of joy;
I love sitting down to have Christmas dinner with my family-
ever since I was a little boy.
Christmas time, to me, has always been a present in and of itself-
there is always something in the air
that makes us all think about more than ourselves:
whether it be our family, our friends,
or our nearest and dearest that have passed on-
Christmas time is when we give back to everyone,
even to whom we think of as gone.
Every Christmas I remove myself from the world
and thank the universe for my life;
even if the previous 358 days have been filled with hurt,
confusion, and strife-
I find that by meeting the day at it conclusion
and saluting the setting of that days sun
I am giving thanks for who I am, what I have-
to the universe, to the Earth, to everyone.
Every day we all share a part of ourselves
and revel in the trust gifted to us by others;
every day we all unwrap the gift of our present,
and find meaning in what we uncover.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 