Halo of golden curls
Dancing in the sunlight
One small face, enrapt
Longing to get it right.
Tiny hands hold fast
The tub of magic stuff
And clasp the plastic wand
Is wishing quite enough?
Thin strands of wispy grey
Straggling in the shadows
One old face distraught
Reflecting all life’s woes.
Mental hands grasp vainly
At thoughts that slide away
And clasp at empty words
With something more to say.
Out there in the sunshine
And in the magic slips.
Carried by the currents
Floating, oh so high
Youthful shining bubble
Aiming for the sky.
Behind the shaded window
Rheumy eye still sees
That sparkling bouncing bubble
Passing over trees.
My artist friend is now 96 and has dementia but a few years ago she gave me some of the doodles and sketches she used to make in preparation for her major works. This is an extract from one of them.
Somehow this dancing girl just captures Elspeth’s own attitude to life.
You can see some of her work here.
I recently joined a creative writing group and wrote this piece following my first meeting.
The Time of Your Life – that well worn phrase
Favoured cliché of my mother
Kids happily playing – yes they’re having the time of their lives.
But what does it mean to me, now?
I recall a time I felt, well, betrayed – almost
Perhaps that’s too harsh a word.
I’d gone to a meeting in good faith
With people I knew and trusted.
I didn’t expect such a question.
Meant as a challenge? A taking stock?
Draw a clock, we were told
Mark on it where you think you are in life.
Stark reminder of mortality
Of things I didn’t want to think about.
The Time of Your Life – a time of enjoyment
That was my mother’s meaning
Sounds good. And positive.
And yet, there is this subtle hint
That this one time can never be surpassed.
This is THE time
No other can ever be so good.
But every moment passes
The way of every other.
Some with relief, some with regret
All future is fleetingly Now
Gone, but not quite gone
For some lives on in memory.
Gives colour, texture to the now
The me that relishes this moment
Would not be me without my past.
The time of life
I don’t suppose you have to be particularly ‘religious’ to have heard of the hymn How great Thou Art. A song where the writer pours out the feeling of their heart and soul at the awesomeness of creation and anyone who sings it is caught up in that sense of wonder.
I was pondering the way the ancients did something similar in songs we know as psalms. They talked of creation in terms of water separated into that above the sky and that below the earth. Not a notion that exactly fits with the science of our day yet a powerful image and one that can be adapted, perhaps?
Lord God of creation
You, my God, sustain me
Sustain my life, all life.
You pluck energy, matter
And leave black holes.
The ancients talked of separating
The waters above the firmament
From those below.
And water, to them, meant chaos.
They knew you brought order from chaos
And order means existence and life.
The science of my generation
But the principle is the same.
Matter and anti-matter
Would fuse and cease to exist
If it weren’t for your sustaining power.
Just eight posts in 2016
Not the way to influence the world!
Do I aim to?
Now there’s a question
Reminds of a story someone once told me
– I’ve a feeling they might have got it from Jonathan Sacks originally
There was as man who set out to change the world
When he realised he couldn’t,
he thought he’d settle for changing his county
When that proved too much
he decided to focus on his town
That too, was beyond him
But surely he could change his family
Eventually, he realised
The only person he could change
A story of defeat? Or of realisation?
If everyone set out to be the best person they could possibly be
and devoted all their effort to the task
together, we would make the world a better place.