Enquiring into some of the bigger questions in life recently – amongst them the shock of being a society that lives with the knowledge of the plight of the people forced to flee from their homelands – and sometimes to die – in boats not fit for the purpose. In particular – I’ve been looking at what I have given my word to .. where I’ve broken my word ..and what I will give my word to. Here exploring language and the difference one small word – or even one letter – could make.
No rhyme – just rhythm.
Word and World.
The difference is one letter.
One letter makes the difference.
One letter to tell the word.
One letter to tell the world.
A word to the world.
The letter ‘l’.
Without which – hell.
Set down thoughts, ideas – create.
Words inspire, motivate.
While those words misinterpreted, misread,
Or with cruel intention stolen..
Light the blue touch-paper.
Worlds apart; together only in the
Darkness of the newsprint.
Lives inked out.
Abducted words – made menacing by resignation and cynicism.
Create stability in economy? De-stabilise humanity, keep ’em on the run.
Lives once tightly knit – unravelling.
Born into space and time and insignificance – the wonder!
Fill our empty minds with sense and knowledge.
Building high walls shored up with meaning, and platitudes.
Until the dam bursts.
Being mind-full of facts and figures leaches promise
From early oceans of possibility.
Some sail over-loaded paper boats along channels of deception
Through impossibly-blue seas of chance and risk.
Hotfoot to cold lands
Welcomed with folded arms.
Make-shift camps, make do and mend.
Lives – once tightly knit – unravelling.
Cast adrift: Moses, and everyone else, in the bull-rushes.
Where bulls hide; and lives end.
Language? Without compassion?
Empty words. Empty hearts.
Empty homes. Full hospitals.
Overflowing camps of refugees.
Their love for each other casting light on the landscape of our minds.
Where we visit; and retire to our comfort zones.
We act as though we have all the time in the world.
We don’t. There is no time like the present.
There is no time BUT the present.
Time is not on our side.
It is what it is; and only that.
We experience only now.
Word to world fit?
Reality is an uneasy, shift-shaping battle
Between attrition and contrition.
Must it be so complicated?
If our – yes, our – context for it all is love.
What else is there to say?
Add one letter.
The letter ‘l’.
Helen Thomson 6th July 2015.
Dedicated to the inimitable Sam Deane: whose questioning mind continues to provide the challenge.