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WITH JOYS WE BEAR OUR CROSS

Sinking, falling, shaping reshaping,
through the strata of life's great layered dream,
becoming green, blue, any hue that fits
with present situations,
ever revised and analysed, weighed,
balanced on the scales of common sense,
and even that has moments of pure doubt.

There are no answers,
no judgments gone before
that tally with our own,
each of us different with different reflections,
experiences, ideas,
building our own palaces of existence
fortresses against the threat
of powers that be, ever seeking to perfect,
the effect and meaning of our existence,
short though it may be.

Soft, sinking, deeper,
deeper in the sea of our desires,
languishing in comforts happy bowers of love,
sensing the sudden flashes of pure joy,
exquisite, while it lasts,
plunging, tossed aside and down below,
when grey's the colour that takes over,
no longer dancing in the clover fields of summer,
but fell, fallow, falsified by age, it's dross,
we cling to what we can, and bear our cross.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Editing stage: 

Comments

Loved the write until the last line or two:- I have always said:-
" If you carry a cross too long the cross will become the reason for carrying"
I agree with all you say on this one where we seek perfection, and know that we judge ourselves in the end.
We may become soft and helpless in age but it is our whole life that we will be tested on.
I think that today's teaching should be from early days, and continue through all of our lives, letting us see even as we reach out to where ever that it is good, and even our way of dealing with the end times is also a part of our being not forgetting those around us that we have to say, "I will see you later"
Have a lovely day our Lady of the Northern skies, Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Thank you Ian, Yes we are made of all sorts aren't we.
A kind of philosophical one this, we tend to get a bit
that way as we grow older don't we?

Love Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

This is a real story of life, but begs me to ask. Should we just bear our cross should we not demand more of those people who are only in politics to serve? Still i enjoyed reading your poem, and it got me thinking. Love Roscoe

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

I am not sure I would wish to demand anything of authorities,
suggest yes, encourage to better things yes, but demand is
not like me. And in the end we see that we had to bear our
own problems, and leant, in some cases, to understand ourselves.

I do a lot of thinking too Roscoe, thank you for passing by.
Love from Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

Soft, sinking, deeper,
deeper in the sea of our desires,
languishing in comforts happy bowers of love,
sensing the sudden flashes of pure joy,
exquisite, while it lasts

I loved your poem I cannot offer anything to improve this its a great poem in my opinion

love JC xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

Oh hello dear Jayne, you are here, and I thank you for your comment,
you know much of what I write, and always bring to the poem your
fine understanding.

Love as aye Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment
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