On Reflection

ON REFLECTION

Sunshine

on puddled rain

reflects

the pride

of plants

refreshed

by elemental

forces

it lifts

my spirits

I hope

they won't evaporate

as I bask

calmly

in the afterglow.

Malcolm Evison

21 May 2009



*******************



The natural sequel to this poem, A PALE REFLECTION, can be found on ARCHIVE MINED & FRESHLY SPUN.

SEMINARIAN

SEMINARIAN


A sanctuary, this studied room –
a sacred place without divinity.

Here, he first began to scour
the weed-strewn paving of his mind –
thought-loads of words strove to devour
his piety.

The books, which thronged
his living space, provided sustenance –
a new found grace.

Alone,
a hermit walled in by abstractions,
striving to fill a god-shaped absence
with well-honed words.

Roomed in his study, studying his mind,
vacuity – that most tenacious weed –
has left him blind.


Malcolm Evison

BEING

BEING


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

Reclamation

RECLAMATION


Just another
lightly throbbing
gritty grey day

a second chance
to modify one’s outlook
divert one’s gaze away

from the reality -
begin to play
the game

of life regained.



Malcolm Evison
29 January 2009

Man For His Age

MAN FOR HIS AGE

Care-worn he leads

his guilt free life,

turns fears

into a bar-room joke –

he never fails

though sometimes falls

a victim to

“the changing times”.

Suburban heroes never weep,

they share with celluloid

an inability to bleed.

He veils his sorrows in

a sentimental song

and never sins –

his standards are complete

and up to date.

A true son

of a dying race.

Malcolm Evison

Flutter By Moment

Flutter By Moment

it alights

softer than a whisper

on my sleeve

almost

as if it sought me out

I sit

relax

breathe in the gentle air -

the butterfly

spreads out its wings -

this moment

I am

at one

with nature

sharing the fragility

imagining

a place where all

could feel secure -

wearing

the butterfly

like a heart

on my sleeve

Malcolm Evison

17 July 2008

GREY DAY

GREY DAY

 

 

the light

or lack of it

strives to deny

day’s movement

 

the change

from slate

to milky grey

holds sway

 

the sky

is unremitting cloud

shrouding the day

in timelessness

 

there are no contrasts

simply a hint

that the earth

may yet prove flat

 

 

                     

                                                        Malcolm Evison

                                                                       5 July 2008

 

Listening To Stockhausen

LISTENING TO STOCKHAUSEN’S CARRE
with COLIN (aged14 months)


High spaces, free and contained -
embraces, sacred and profane.

Each moment a change;
change the instant
start anew.

Fresh breezes, shrill streams
chimes ringing -

the baby smiles –
he shares
none of my amazement;

constantly amazed
his is affirmation.
He laughs, picks up a new toy.

I relax -
immersed in the present.

Spaces
free and contained.


Malcolm Evison

************************************

another poem, freshly unearthed from the archives, THE GIFT, can be read on Archive Mined and Freshly Spun

Sanctuary

SANCTUARY

Witnessing a fresco
in the chapel of my mind -
I could not rest.

My past -
emblazoned on the walls,
of this my secret hermitage -

I wept.

All colours had gone,
and only words hung there,
empty and cold.

Quietly in the night
I saw eternity decay
and knew
my life must change.

I awoke -
you arrived -
my transient future.

Malcolm Evison

MOVING

Whilst putting books back on their shelves, following recent decorating activity, I noticed a few dated jottings on the end papers of some volumes. (I had a habit of scribbling on the most immediately accessible blank piece of paper in those days).

I'm slightly mystified by this one but, something appeals/haunts me as I try to understand my more youthful mind-set.

MOVING

Times climate false and reasoned

calls me out of the dawn

into the full of light; moving

with great deliberation

full of ideas

as they are full of me -

time is the length of me

but I am larger

undefiled; moving

beyond the impotence

escaping

the disciplined innocence

of values which weigh

no heavier

than my tears of joy.

Malcolm Evison

14 January 1969

(re-moulded 12 May 2008)

TWILIGHT SEARCH

TWILIGHT SEARCH

The mind finds purpose

in pursuit of meaning;

openly seeking,

not knowing what.

The sky is vacant,

anaemically slate blue;

but night will fall,

add colour

to a pallid firmament.

The eye will forge

patterns

from a scattering

of stars.

The mind pursues

a greater scheme –

not knowing what.

Malcolm Evison

20 April 2008