ABOUT DEATHS DOOR

     ABOUT DEATH’S DOOR


That day you found
time’s precipice
and never faltered –

to plunge beyond
or else traverse
the tremulous ridge path –

each spelt out welcome
each a warm retreat.

The beckoning remembrance
of worlds created
by the mind and sense –

the wraiths in combat, those
still present
and others already
moved on.

That day you breathed
time’s fall, and fell back
wreathed in living hours.


                            Malcolm Evison


This is an old draft of a poem I’ve just stumbled upon many years after it’s composition. I’m not really sure what I make of it, nor can I remember who I wrote it for but, am nonetheless intrigued by it!
Malcolm

BEING [Fourth Draft]


God spoke –
I dare not listen.

I could not face
the stillness
of simply being there.

God spoke:
there were no words –
I simply saw

the suffering of others.
I could not share

the stillness
of simply being there.

One day I knew
God could not speak -
I used my eyes,

I saw and felt
the suffering of multitudes –
I listened to their cries –

then cautiously I whispered
“I am here”

and from my helplessness
I knew -
that God was there.




Malcolm Evison
28 July 2005