The Space Between
The space between
Dark blue and black
Differing shades of forever
Where pointing fingers linger
And eyes do blink
The stuff of dreams gathering
Like nocturnal memories
No lights required
Just open minds
Stardust and magic
Little parcels of eternity
Destiny and hope
Children praying for shooting stars
Never has nothing held such value
Here, dwelling in held breaths
Today was a bad day before I'd even finished my coffee, (that's not good). So, after a run not clearing my brain, the next best thing was a walk to the river.
In truth, where I live the river is more estuary than actual waterway. Over a mile wide, the Humber is at its best on a clear, sunny day where the wind remains strong. The results are pictures like the one above.
The wonderful Neil Gaiman wrote about 'The Ocean at the End of the Lane', a great book by the way. This is my real life version ' the estuary at the end of the path'. It's not quite as magical but it does the trick.
Sometimes all you need to remind yourself of the important things is a view. I'd like a few more mountains, but beggars can't be choosers.
I hope your own weekends contains some magical sights too.
Richard M. Ankers
Author of The Eternals Series
Into Eternity (Very Soon!)
She swept across the meadow in bouquets of death. The snowdrops, my favourites, turned black, the early daffodils wilted in grey. She entered my yard without asking and took my hands; I didn’t want to go. Lady Death cajoled me against my wishes. I’d so hoped to stay at home.
The dog followed me home even though I peddled faster. It loped along barely panting as I huffed and puffed, a long-haired mongrel with a lolling tongue. He looked like Luke before the war took him. I loved that dog and told him so, as I should've done my brother.
Be it morning or evening
As though we are friends
She stood in a puddle in the centre of the bridge, her umbrella blown inside out. Perhaps the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen, she was also the most bedraggled. Other people stomped on by spraying water in all directions, some workers, some spenders, some lovers, some freaks and not one offered her help.
The girl, forlorn to the point of devastated, brushed aside auburn locks that swept straight back into her alabaster face and wept. Like a naiad, she looked to haunt the puddle she stood in unable to move away, unwilling to leave, too sad to even raise her head. Somehow, it seemed more than a bad day, worse than the weather, an accumulation of that thing we call life and she just couldn’t take anymore.
I had to do something. Pivotal moments are few and far between in life, always important, and I feared if she went unaided the girl might never recover.
This was my time. So, I concentrated with all my might just as the others had taught me and tapped her on her jacketed shoulder. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
She snapped from her trance like a fish before a shark, looked right through me, screamed and ran.
It made me glad to scare her so, to make her realise there were worse things in life. That jumping wasn’t the answer.
I wished someone had done that for me.
A coin dropped
Makes distant ripples
Of your face
Of your eyes
This endless uncertainty
Of wishes and dreams
Underlined and underwritten
Each one does as he is bidden
Fighting armies, slaying foes
That’s how the lives of heroes go
Without a chance to see a dawn
Or touch the horn of unicorn
They battle onwards in sharp breaths
Until the day when they’ll taste death
The Valkyrie will scoop their souls
Collected, ragged, no longer whole
And as they sit upon the clouds
They’ll live again if they’re allowed
Not one of violence, grief and ire
Not one of flames and heat and fire
But one of peace with maiden fair
I know the truth for I am there
I do not wish to grip, but glide
I do not want to slip, but slide
I do not wish for ice, but glass
And do so wish that it won’t pass