ALIVE AGAIN

In dreams untried, (the painted actorʼs grief)
All feelings bled, dry fears of wisdom shed,
Our humble man, the actor held beneath,
The prophetʼs dream, the childʼs belief.

A man entombed, without tomorrowʼs sky
I felt I knew, he felt the sunrise too,
Alone with all, the world without the eye
And I was dark, as if to die.

He knew the words, and raised his pen to see
But met the heart, and visions held apart
Then cried for life, a deeper scar of me,
He took my hand, then set us free.

And from this time unmeasured, deep within
From sleep we rose, upon a virgin breeze
In freedom borne, fresh days of dreams begin,
Awake at last, alive again.

 

November 1978 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1978-2011

AND IN THE MORN

On broken tears, the naked flesh
Embalméd in a silent misery;
Twilight dreams surrender to the dark,
Unflinching in its callous strain
Of time for time, and now to life,
And in the new-found morn
Denies the early past,
A twilight yes, but not the dark,
The love but not the love,
No seepage from the heaven learned,
For naked flesh in daylight feels undone,
And cries as convicts for the mother’s womb.

 

June 1978 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1978-2011

THE AEGEAN SOLDIER

A hilltop of green saw the soldier,
In pain as he cried to the mist;
For the soldier saw only his father,
In death to a black morningʼs fist.
Persephone watched from a rise
And sighed for the pain at her ʻneath,
And the father in white watched beside,
As the young soldier courted the wreath.

ʻI have but the one life to giveʼ he cried,
And felt his judgement true,
And then he wept for truth to wilt
And faith to drown in dew.
ʻAs againʼ cried the thoughtless Aegean,
ʻI have lost only morningʼs attire;
But the prayer for a tear of remembrance
Is the wood for the next mourningʼs fire.ʼ

Sweet Demeterʼs child spake at last
With a strength for the dying to learn,
That the voice of the winter be broken
As the harvests of honour return:
ʻFor the dew shall once more breed afresh
And shall plunder fateʼs deepest domain,
And while man follows peace through the darkness
He may never wear deathʼs coat in vain.ʼ

ʻAnd so hold the courage of lightʼ cried his father
ʻAnd would to the tunnel unseen –
And feel in the nightʼs dew a warning
And see, in the morning, the green.ʼ
Not brooding in the clammy light
The Aegean took death by the sword,
And headed in time for the darkness,
And soldiered the light by his word.

 

1978 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1978-2011

WITHOUT YOU

Silence, in a morning’s misery
Of wasted loves and dying moons,
A headache of light’s truth to come;
The pain of disappearing dew,
The death in living without you.

 

December 1977 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1977-2011

A WORLD OF GOLD

In a tireless age, in an infinite dome,
The breath of morning birds and new-born winds
Unfolds, in a senseless skin, a beauteous mirth
And in an unmasked eye a world of gold.

 

Coffs Harbour
December 1977 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1977-2011

TO YESTERDAY

A sinner be in loving, sinners’ foe,
Injustice bred in reading errant lust
As artless love, sweet dalliance, hope –
I bled those days as one possessed:
My eyes I dared not see while closing yours,
Dry lips did mock with common tongue, found
Rare betwixt damp love – yet I pervert
A dawn denied, for loving never had, then
Never be, and never as but living friends
In passing play.

 

July 1977 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1977-2011

SEASON

The silent scent of buds new-fallen,
Leaves as tainted embers of tomorrow –
I search the peace where eyes so burned might
Sigh, to ponder never more upon a tear;
Sweet darkness bred as light awakens,
Terrified with morning’s mist, love’s visage
Of a crop dew-burnt and fossilised
Into the memory of a dream to come.

 

July 1977 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1977-2011

SWEET PRINCESS

If you can say our love is lost
And futureʼs warmth to seasoned frost,
If you can smile a last goodbye
To eyes that never dreamed deny,
If you can name one kiss the last
And loving nights a pleasant past,
If you can hold short memʼries dear
And cast them in unconscious fear,
Then shed my tears while youth remains
To walk the seasoned fightersʼ lanes,
And banish Timeʼs eternal pain.

But if, my heart, you feel the fire
Still kindling with our past desire,
If you can feel unseasoned arms
And whispered moans of natures charms,
If you can smile on evening walks
And teasing silent loversʼ talks,
If you remember past still new
And waiting for the reckless few,
Then cast aside all mortal bonds
And teach me what is right and wrong;
And I will draw the sun to you
With love which Time will neʼer undo –
Sweet Princess, in a lifeʼs debut.

 

June 1977 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1977-2011

TIME ANTIQUATED

Sweet Time it motions trees to grow,
And Time allows the river-flow;
Strict Time it beckons day to night
And lets time-wearied seasons fight.

Fresh Time purveys a cloudless sun
As children to their futures run;
Fair Time draws age-old leaves to dust,
And feeds to life the savage crust.

Deft Time it breeds a knowledge through
And amputates the seedless few,
And Time paternal, ever firm
Assigns to life a balanced term.

Old Time the craftsman builds anew
And germinates a life’s debut;
And Time denotes a tenancy
Till payment due, a painless fee.

Yet Time uncoupled, tearless heart
Denies two lovers torn apart,
When time for life is bred so young
And time for love untimely sung.

Then Time the warden stand aside,
Embrace two hearts with humble pride;
Eternal space bleeds not the dove –
Poor time divorced by timeless Love.

 

May 1977 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1977-2011

CORRIDORS LOST

We left the cries to find the heart,
And headed north to pillars new:
Then found the place we hoped would be,
But never thought, could never see.

We rang the bell and crawled inside
To lovers high on nightly gin,
Of skies and breathing honey beds
In snow of old, yet newly fed.

The turkish camel coat addressed
As if to speak, or clear its throat,
And love returned in dripping burns
As stifled memories to learn.

Night shining over wandʼring eyes
As clever owls fought natureʼs minds –
Yet silent, fearing grassy tombs
Of clouds coersed by butter-wombs.

Together praying into webs
Of mothball eggs on pillow heads,
We cried aloud to desert ears
In barking cracked and willow tears:

Please let us leap into that mound,
And be devoured by deathʼs delights,
By Natureʼs past, where love the song
As manʼs dry fear, in graves belong.

The beacon, as a lover, turned to dust,
Yet spoke in language without sound
To say, you may return to love or lust,
But never to your wishes – all was still.

 

February 1977 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1977-2011

A DREAM

I see the light, I feel the fire,
Piously burning as the souls of tired
Adventurers search for the valleyʼs heaven –
Mystical, avenging, uneventful mode,
Still fearing callousness of heart yet
Hoping then, as now, but even fonder
For the tireless stream of memories to come.

I cry for time, I know the signs,
Hindering all mortal, meaningless thought,
All frigid dying sanctities of mind;
For those who overthrow shall be divine,
But not as this, for now they are dry
As dusty bread, and shall remain only
To feed the soberly judged, the captive soul.

I wish to rise, in death of mind,
To be the hinge on the prophetʼs door,
And as such to ponder on the wise
And smile, as a child, at the blind.
Clarity in death of fostered fears,
Flowing like a hundred intermingled loves,
As one, free for life, in beautyʼs web.

 

October 1976 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1976-2011

WITH THE TIDE

Have you felt that youʼve won, ʻthough youʼre going to die;
Have you seen all the joys and the tears and the sighs;
Have you known of the heartbreak, the winning, the prize
Which helps you to lose, when the next time you try?

Will your mind ever wander to eternal flames;
Will your heart systematically know whoʼs to blame;
Will your feet ever find the way back in the rain,
Or is walking the easy way out of it….

Did the Christ someone knew really save him from hell,
And has anyone told all the stories to tell;
Is our life just for living, or dying as well,
And does anyone know all the answers?

Donʼt ever pretend that youʼre not still a child,
Donʼt ever divulge all your secrets, run wild;
Donʼt ever enjoy what you feel you beguile –
Stay close to the mind youʼre forgetting.

 

September 1976 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1976-2011

MORNING

So peaceful, warm, or coolly chilled, One sees the light and feels fulfilled; And yet some cry in pain of heart, For they see mem’ries, cold and dark. There are some, loving children’s cries, And see the peace in wild eyes, And there are those who fear the light, While still they feel the stench of night. To those who smile we say ‘sleep well’, And keep your perfumed tales to tell; To those who wish we all would die, We wish to ask you when, and why? To those who see the better land, We tell you, take your plough in hand And sow the seeds of knowledge now, So you may take the world in tow.   September 1976 (as amended) © Michael G Reid 1976-2011

AWAKENING

Young folly breathes a treacherous path,
When zest for life, in youth, is felt so old
By those incensed, yet still in childhood’s wrath –
A bitter remedy for love, so cold.

 

September 1976 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1976-2011