evensong
if twilight stir me to reason
and night then move me to passion
the daylight burn me to ashes
and darkness come without season
then this is the hour of patience
–I know morning will not be withheld
either by faith or the faithless
Comments
Hello, Graham,
Please don’t get me wrong—where my writing has anything at all to do with work, I’ve learned enough to know better than to leave the vitals open to interpretation.
I’m half-joking—you’re not commenting on how I feel about work, I know, but it’s been a long day )
I understand what you’re saying, though. I wouldn’t bother trying to decipher if I were you. Writing, for me, is just a way of processing ideas about which I don’t have the luxury of expounding at length enough to make much literal sense, anyway. In other words, if it’s not clear to you as a reader, it’s probably not straightforward for me either.
Thanks for the comment and the compliment. Really, I feel fortunate when I can come through with enough clarity to reach those who read my writing; and so, your comment is encouraging.
I like that Landi,
whatever our armour, whatever our vulnerability the day comes...the great leveller.
David
Landi, I often find your work hard to read/decipher but I really do like this piece
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Landi Cruz
Fri 19th Apr 2024 17:46
Hey David,
That’s it...
The day does come. Without fail. For millenia upon millenia. The day cares not for past or future. It simply is…
That might sound like existentialism. But, I don’t think I’m an existentialist at all.
The light necessarily contrasts with the void. So, we must all—every one of us—be part of the light. Else, we would be void and the void is nonexistence.
We—all of us, all things—are the day. We exist within the day and are of the day.
How can we argue? How can we rush the day? How can we forestall it?
Thank you kindly, David, for the comment—I slightly wish to go on, but in my state of mind, I suspect I will only lose the thread )