Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Nothing is wasted.


Nothing is wasted.

Pitted scarred and discarded,
an anchor that time and tide no longer need.
Idle, no old connections,
nothing to brace against
buffet and squall.
Scrapped fragment of history,
unable to boast of battles and dangers,
now exposed to weathered ruination
with no plaque
nor silver watch,
no badge of honour.
Here, you must make a new impression
amongst waves of fern and beachy soil,
fight new battles with flowing tides of rain
and ebbing suns.
But there is beauty
in these crumbling shades of red and brown
leaning like an old man at a gate of passing.
These chains hold the gaze for a moment
and give pause for thought.

3 comments:

Marja Verschoor-Meijers said...

Pause for Thought, great title for a sculpture. Is there a harbor where you live...? Maybe you can make this a plague or poster... I love it!

RitasRavings said...

Your poetry always touches me deeply. The older I get the more I begin to feel like that old anchor. Thank you for your encouraging words.

Hannah Goldsmith said...

When I first saw the picture I thought it was a fallen cross with chains around it - and a slipped halo...

Of course the chains on Calvary`s cross was Love....

Another tender piece of writing from your Christlike heart....