All the rest
It rests in tattered dust
No one picks it up
No one denys or condemns
Just lets it lie in dust
Almost covered up
Nearly gone from sight.
Did it exist?
Did it live and laugh?
Let it rest, let it rest
It’s work is done.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2016
Sadness is
A part of life along with heartache, chaos
Unnecessary strife
No amount of humour will make them go away
They stay
Belonging to those that breathe sadness in their day.
Sadness though
Can too, live in a heart full of love
Along with kindness, gentle touch
And
Unconditional love.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2016
Destined to travel a winding road
Occasionally rough, sometimes cold.
Staying to the path can be hard
Any presence must be bold.
Looking at that what lives on my path
My feet move to the left, then to the right.
Forward, backward, all is and seems right
As my destiny travels the road to the light.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2016
Searching for something new
Searching amongst
The breathe of that
That I once knew.
Grasping, holding close
Memories I loved
See them fall away
Replacing now all that yesterday.
Searching for
New memories untold
Searching for a new life
A new mould.
Searching, searching
But no one knows
Nor will they let it be
As of yet, let it be told.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2016
When all the world whirls round
When a stranger stops and bends to the ground
When the heart feels compassion for those lost, wandering around
When no one knows hunger, anger or bad attitude
When we see magnificence in this body called me
That’s
When we’ll be living heaven on earth
Heaven on earth is where we all should be.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2016
In it’s grip
It’s grip so tight
Hearing ice crack
As limbs fight to stay aloft
In the cruel, bleak night
Sparks shoot into the sky
Wires break, electricity dies.
We wait for help, to understand
A world changed, transformed
Across our little plot of land.
No cell phone works
No lights come on
Except from generators
Throttled up, throttled down.
While chainsaws roar cross the land
We do our best
To clean up, to understand.
~Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2016
Thinking of the beauty
Here in spring.
Thinking of growth
The rising from the ground.
Thinking of life’s birth anew
Oh so profound.
Thinking of creation’s magic
Like the beauty in a wren’s song.
Thinking
Thinking of a song.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2016
In a way I can’t understand
The world whirls round
Making no excuses
Denying no light
Or darkness in the night.
I don’t understand
It’s not at my command
How rivers run, showers fall
And the world turns
Again and again.
Most of all I stand
In the midst of this
Wondering
Will I ever
Ever understand?
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2016
Wandering thru my heartland
Down by the meadow where an old tree stands
No one knows the meadow nor the stream tricking by
Only robins and larks sing the way to the meadow
Where squirrels sleep and play near by.
May my wandering thru grasses
Growing tall in that sweet meadow
Hold my thoughts as here I stand
Seeing love growing old, gracing all
In my meadow, in my meadow’s heartland.
~ Patrice
Patrice Clarkson – 2016
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