The first
poem below was written while I was in Year 8 at
school, which explains the poorer
quality. It is necessary, however, to understand the second which I wrote recently. The second looks at the first, and tries to
understand and
explain what I was
feeling when I wrote the first, and how things have
changed
It is dusk
and as I walk along the
path
I watch the
sun fall
dying
for the night.
It is dusk
and as I walk along the path
I look up at the shining
disc
that is
the
full moon
It is
night
and as I walk along the path
I watch the lights in the
darkness
the stars brightly
silhouetted against the
inky blackness that is
the night.
It is night
and as I walk along the path
I light a
torch, to see.
Man fears the darkness
the
unknown
so he takes it away with fire, with light
for darkness fears
the light.
It is night
and as I walk along the path
I
stumble
my torch burnt down, burnt out
and once again I am left in
the darkness.
It is
dawn
and as I walk along the path
I see
that the stars have faded drom view
and the moon no longer
shines
It is dawn
and I watch as the sun and the day
are
reborn.
It is Dusk2
It is Dusk,
and as I return to the path
an ease of
familiarity breathes over me.
It is Dusk,
and as I return to the path,
I gaze towards the
setting sun.
A vision I have seen here before.
Yet now I understand its
significance.
It is Dusk,
and as I walk the path once more,
Its curves known, its
intricacies unveiled,
it stretches into the distance, far beyond the part I have
experienced.
Depths of detail yet
undisturbed.
It is night,
and as I turn back, to walk the path once again,
I stride to the point I stumbled last time
and step over it
knowingly.
It is night,
and in the
bravado of
youth
and
Hubris of
Intellect
I stumble somewhere else
No less careless.
It is night,
and as I sit on the path,
I look up at God’s own torches
and sip from a
waterskin.
The night conceals only what my
imagination wills.
It is night,
and I stand once more.
I walk along this stretch of road.
Perhaps the last time.
I hope never to come back.
Had I the chance, I would gladly walk the distance
some other way.
It is dawn
The
alternate shining disc
Rising, reborn.
Such a path that holds great
fears.
Such a path that holds great
pathos.
Such a path that is walked always
alone.
Holds no sway, in
hindsight.