Darkness leans over the light Until light is extinguished, Leaving us to reach out For some old philosophy, Cobbled together By really determined thinkers, Looking to make sense Of this situation of living We find ourselves in.
What we long for is a fail-safe, Easily learnt, easily practised Way of keeping out the darkness. Maybe a small avenue Tucked away in a faded corner of our heart, Lit by a single perfectly placed candle Giving a faint but steady light of hope, Because we could not cope With anything brighter.
That would keep darkness Outside the door, Outside the window, Easing the pain that would demolish us.
Of course, prayer is there, Telling us what we already know. That only love can turn the eternal around. Only love bring light To lean on the darkness Until darkness is extinguished And we can find a way through.
We see things all the time that make no sense. Things that set us wondering how they exist at all and this poem was made after I saw one such thing. We were walking up a very, very small mountain and I was wandering along one of its paths, when I saw this one particular path. I followed it and found that it led to the very edge of a high point. Below, rocks were tumbling down a steep and dangerous slope. Why did the path exist? I stood there with a thousand questions, questions there was no answer to, as there never is when we see something that doesn’t make sense. The only thing to do then, is to write a poem.
There are paths all over this mountain. They run through rock And over grass, As if a thousand feet Had worn them into the ground.
Some paths go on for ever, Winding up and down Until we can no longer see them. Others run a little way, Then stop.
We walk up and down these paths, Wondering who made them.
Especially do we wonder who made the one That runs straight off the edge of the rock.