About aperture

Living on the island state of Tasmania, Australia. Narrating life through poetry and photography.

Dearest Hope

Posted on January 1, 2016 by aperture

I hope…

keep yourself from feeling

resentment at my leaving you

here, my dearest.

It is joyous to depart,

do not let sadness taint

the inevitable start

to a “new” day.

Do not hold it against Him,

let comfort cover you

and soften the impact

you feel after free-fall.

It will save you, bruised not broken.

I am nothing but

a haunted house

occupied by a Ghost

that keeps all others out.

I fear it not, for it dispels all fears

– the hate and the fight –

it lets in the light through darkened shutters,

breaks down inhabitable disguise.

I stare into your face

no mask, of self – a trace,

an empty broken shell

awaiting to be whole

and filled with life anew.

No cold, hard, barren ground,

broken fossils incomplete

no slowly sinking mound

weathered turf, carved concrete,

chiselled words standing proud.

Within one heart rests humanity, whole –

my only other hope is you are there

once you too, are grown and old.

Add. 43490 f.23

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Image source

gnosco

Posted on December 20, 2015 by aperture

I know all that I need

to manage my pain.

You have the cure.

Would you knowingly

keep it from me?

To be part of something

bigger than the pain

to show our people

refrain to say ‘no’

To laugh, sing, cry,

to bring relief is

to know.

knowledge-graph-brain-ss-1920

Hidden deep

Posted on December 15, 2015 by aperture

While brothers and sisters were engaged

in a turf war on a global scale

A cold front, hardened, caught adrift

Floats away without mainsail

The emptiness perturbed them

As far as the eye could see

But watchful for horizon

Warmer shores come expectantly

But, little do they know how

a hot sea current can act

Upon their frozen precipice

They have escaped the simple fact

For underneath the narrow tip

the sea sick clambering, cling

A hull full of dangerous cargo

in the underbelly bring

All baggage, loot and baffles-full

of stowaways, bilge and gas

No room for living passengers

Just a burly lump of mass

The lot on top think handsomely

of their talent at nautical stuff

But from Captain down to Seamen

They’re playing blind man’s bluff

While many heard their tale

of floating like sea birds

Many passing ships do fear

The invisible iceberg.

Iceberg

Open Doors

Posted on December 15, 2015 by aperture

doors of heaven with words

Colossians 4:1-6

True life

Posted on December 9, 2015 by aperture

“Have we not all, amid life’s petty strife,
Some pure ideal of a noble life
That once seemed possible? Did we not hear
The flutter of its wings and feel it near,
And just within our reach? It was. And yet
We lost it in this daily jar and fret,
And now live idle in vain regret;
But still our place is kept, and it will wait,
Ready for us to fill it, soon or late.
No star is ever lost we once have seen,
We always may be what we might have been.
Since good, tho’ only thought, has life and breath,
God’s life – can always be redeemed from death;
And evil, in its nature, is decay,
And any hour can blot it all away;
The hopes that, lost, in some far distance seem,
May be the truer life, and this the dream.”