ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Resurrection

What happens to the laughter
that brings music to my soul?
Does its echo live forever,
or wither in the cold

of a sister’s tragic circumstance;
a lover’s broken heart;
an old man unremembered;
a family torn apart.

What happens to my thinking
when I give myself to sleep?
Are there thoughts alive and waiting
to be dredged from somewhere deep?

Do promises I fail to keep
bed down with lies I’ve told;
with thanks ungiven; friends ignored;
rights I don’t uphold?

And yesterdays …where do they go
when each day brings new dawn?
Where are all tomorrows kept
while waiting to be born?

Where does goodness come from
and holiness and love.
The giving and the helping
that we see too little of?

And when my memory of a poem,
the magic words that once did roam
through thoughts and dreams is lost to me,
will it still live? Will it still be?

And will it sleep, or call in vain
waiting to be born again
in someone else’s heart and mind
to once again on paper find
resurrection?


Wazza

Hi Wazza
A really thoughtful poem and very well written as well.
And yes, where are all things hidden, our good deeds and our sins.
I guess the good things will be remembered by someone,
and as for the not so good things, well if you manage to outlive your age group,
there's no one left who knows anyway.
And I reckon we all have a few of both.

I always enjoy your poems as well Wazza.

Cheers Terry

Thanks Terry. Yes all guilty at times.

Oh, I really like this, Wazza. Thought-provoking, simple, direct. Nicely crafted.

Cheers
Shelley

Thank you Shelley.

Ooh yes, Wazza, I totally agree with Terry and Shelley on this one. These questions are thought-provoking indeed and the poem is very well put together. You grab attention from the very first two lines and hold it throughout, making a reader want to go back and read it again a couple more times over - which I did! I really like this.

Kind words. Thank you Catherine.
Wazza