Understanding this Life….

I sat and wrote a new poem this week. It seemed to come almost like a message from a dream. It flowed from my pen. I usually write about all things peaceful and try not to dwell on negativity, yet I don’t feel I can shuffle these thoughts away into a corner without airing them.

We are living through turbulent times. This we know. But the clocks tick on whilst we are searching for healing and a gentle, benign hand to soothe us. And even when the peaceful, kind ones among us search for the right answers, the undercurrent of negative forces can pull us under or in the wrong direction.

But the quiet listener will understand.

Today it is Holocaust Memorial Day, and tonight I will light a candle and let it shine from my window. I listened to a lady of 97 being interviewed this week. She is a Holocaust survivor and suffered greatly during the Second World War. She has recently recovered from COVID-19. She advised everyone to keep going and never to give up. She was the epitome of hopefulness and courage.

‘I Believe in the sun even when its not shining. And I believe in love, even when there’s no one there. And I believe in God, even when He is silent.’

The above was scratched on the wall of a cellar in the Auschwitz concentration camp.

I know that as human beings we will never agree about everything and nor should we. But if we can learn to join together in the ways that matter and that work toward the common good, we will be facing the sun.

Understanding 

How can we ever understand life,
The unsteady see-saw
Between bliss and strife?
This beautiful, fragile world 
That is full of unrest,
And slips from the keeping
Of those with only love to invest,
And now lies open to greed and weeping.
How can we feel the benefit
Of reckless power that rushes
In the name of help,
Yet turns its back on all it crushes?
Is there a place out there
Where we have a right to choose-
To take what is fair 
And know what to refuse?
Where fresh eyes see
What is really there,
As light falls on truth
And lays it bare.
In the room where others listen only to reply,
The quiet listener understands,
And learns how to fly
With knowledge in his hands.

(C) L.M.H.