The Thinking Poet


Rain Upon My Face

I have stood on many bridges watching water flow

Yet cannot know if rain upon my face

Is water that once raced beneath my feet.


I have walked a lonely beach, breakers snapping at my feet

Listening to the beat of unquiet sea

Chivvied by the motion of the moon.


I have climbed cloud-capped hills, and asked a spindrift sky

About the why and wherefore of this life,

And of the clash between the peace we crave, and strife.


I have watched a field trudging through its round:

The cutting, the bound straw, the corn;

The plough, the seed, the harrowed loam reborn.


And at a bedside I have watched a loved-one sleep

So deep I could not tell if breath had ceased and death had come.

But I have been assured by flowing streams and spindrift dreams,

By sea's ceaseless beat, and field's yearly feat of rich rebirth,

That love is lasting, though we go to earth.