1455

I am the song you heard before creation

I am the song that calls across the void

I am the song enfolding each sensation

I am the song the angels first enjoyed

I am the song that wakes you in the dawn

I am the song that eases you at night

I am the song that guides you through the shadows

I am the song that leads you to the light

I am the song that died away to silence

I am the song that darkness could not hide

I am the song that sang again at sunrise

I am the song that could not be denied

I am the song, sing out the joy of living

I am the song, sing out to show we care

I am the song, sing out the new creation

I am the song, sing out the love we share

Tune; Tell out my soul

Brian Hick May 2015

©copyright Sally Hick 24.4.26

 1454

Firle 2 5 15

Rain clouds drift across the beacon's head

Greying the damp spring fields, softening skies

As if muslin veils enshroud the Downs

Keeping them snug within a gentle void.

The dipoles and the ridge path where we walk

Have disappeared and even closer to

Swallows swoop then vanish from my sight,

Sheep rest, blurred against the misted hedge.

The train is quiet, a distant mobile call

Alone breaking the rhythm of the wheels.

Empty stations pass unnoticed till

The downs are gone and placid to the south

The sea yawns as the evening closes in.

Brian Hick 2.5.15

©copyright Sally Hick 21.4.26

 1453

What do they do with

All the photographs they take

On their mobile phones?

Brian Hick April 2015

©copyright Sally Hick 17.4.26

 1452

Wittgenstein sat on these steps

From forty-eight to forty-nine.

It was quiet, warm, befuddling;

Like his Tractatus on my mind.

Brian Hick April 2015

©copyright Sally Hick 15.4.26

 1451

On a roundabout near Galway

There's a dump for fairground rides,

A Ferris-wheel shorn of its seats,

A switch back thrown up by the tides.

But where are the crowds who squealed and shouted?

Where the candy floss and beer?

Where the children and the lovers

Clasping hands to share their fear?

Every happy moment passes

Every memory will fade

Every touch of human kindness

Will dissolve into the grave;

So why care if these abandoned

Rides are left to rot away;

Why concern ourselves with pleasures

Long since gone and had their day?

Do these rides so soon abandoned

Call to mind our fleeting lives,

The tiny sparks of love and gladness

Shining when nought else survives,

When even memory can't temper

Emptiness with thouhts of love

And life evolves in aimless circles,

Endless, as the skies above.

The Ferris wheel waits for the breakers

The Waltzers rust into the earth

Everything returns to dust

Until the moment of re-birth.

Brian Hick April 2015

©copyright Sally Hick 13.4.26

 1450

Passer meae puellae

I picked it up and hardly felt its weight,

A chaffinch, lying just outside the door.

Unmarked, its summer plumage bright and clean

Belied the dull eye and the open claw.

How long had it been flying from the South,

How many days against a wind-swept sea

Before, exhausted, it had chanced to fall,

Epiring, on the path in front of me?

Though sheltered by our garden, where the birds

From Gillsman's Wood have fresh seed every day,

There was no time to rebuild vital strength

And so his gentle spirit slipped away.

Yet his short life, like every other soul,

Was precious to the love which makes us whole.

Brian Hick April 2015

©copyright Sally Hick 11.4.26

 1449

You point the way; so why do I feel blind

Confused before the grief that fills my life

As if my daily pain, the creeping haze

Or soft yet meaningless confusion, rife

With thoughts divorced from feelings or concern

Which might at some point, though they seem uncouth,

Console the spidery threads that circle round

The edges of what could just be the truth?

Despair's a sin, ending it all a crime

Against your love if not against the law

But sucked into this mire of apathy

How can I raise my eyes to with for more?

Why should I continue with this fight?

End it now; snuff out this little light.

Brian Hick April 2015

©copyright Sally Hick 9.4.26