In Need of New Shoes

We have walked a ways together
But now the time has come for us to part company.
In your frailty, you can no longer bear the strain
Or protect me from the rain
And so you must retire to a
Home for the worn-out.

To discard of you feels like
To discard of a part of myself ,
Married as we have been
These past twelve months.
Who I am is written all over you,
You are trained in my ways
And, in your wisdom, know the pattern of my steps
Even before I take them,
Before I lift my foot to make them.

You have served me well old friends
And I will mourn for you.
As I look back on the paths we journeyed together
Sometimes in extremes of weather
Over rocky terrain
Through sun and through rain, yes,
As I remember,
I will mourn for you.

All the while trying to train your successors –
Naive and neutral
Willing to bend to any who will employ them.
Fresh-faced and eager
But lacking in life experience.
In time they will master each bend and flex
And learn to yield only to me.
We will become as one.

The blisters will heal,
And my memories will blur -
You will become but a chapter in my life.
But until then,
And who can say when
That might be?
Yes, until that day,
I can resolutely say
The socks on my feet will always be black.

Once Again

I haven't posted in a few days, it seems that the hours are disappearing this week.

In light of the current weather conditions, it seemed appropriate to post a poem I wrote during last year's white Christmas...

Crystalline purity falls from heaven
Refreshing the earth and
Wrapping it in a blanket of
Cleanliness.

For a time the ground lies in
Unspoiled stillness -
Recharging
While the street lamp stands as a sentinel
Keeping his vigil.

As the sun rises the sentinel's shift ends and
He retires, leaving his watch
Unguarded.

One by one the civilians surface.
Energised and excited,
They dance their patterns and work at
Leaving their mark.
Their shrill voices that shriek profanities,
Are muted by the graceful blanket
They so readily wreck.

As night falls
Once again
And darkness descends,
The sentinel takes his post -
Standing as a beacon
In the midst of the mire.
A tear rolls down his cheek
As he looks on the pitiful scene
That echoes of all that has been.

A droplet causes his gaze to lift -
The light touch of
Crystalline purity
Raining down in abundance to
Cover their tracks.

The scene pure and perfect
Once again
The sentinel clocks off,
Leaving the civilians to their day.


Lamentations 3:22-23
22 The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease.23 Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.