Monday, November 06, 2006

Morning bridge
























Morning light on Orwell Bridge, Ipswich.
(c) A Mc N

Watching

I watch you on stage, holding the crowd with a mix of humour, humanity and bare faced audacity.
You cajole us, coerce us, inspire us by turns.
And nobody suspects.

I see you mingling, moving in and out of conversations, smiling as you do,
Spreading fire and revolution,
Kindling passion for the broken.
And nobody suspects
The broken stand before them.

But I, by some privilege of grace,
Am privy to the tumbled words, half articulated emotions,
The things that can only be half-said lest the saying of them burst the slender fibres
Holding strength and sanity together.

All you seek is a truce with life,
A hiding place, a sanctuary,
A glimpse of hope.

All I have to offer is a hug, a prayer;
A willingness to keep your secrets,
And to share your pain...

A feeble kind of love perhaps
But honest all the same.

(c) A Mc N