A MOUNTAIN CALLED LAGAZUOI

(2014 -100 +100 a reflection on then, now, and time to come)

I penned a poem the other day

Let’s see if I can recall

About what was it all about

Now it’s all coming back to me

It told of the joy of silence

The discovery of what high mountain reaches can mean

The intimacy and the inspiration to be found there up high

It was a calling to men down below, trapped in a deadly bore

To seek the courage to wander further afield

Leaving the drabness of the city well behind

To chance, to discover, to give life a soul

On the way up on the day I wrote the words

We talked about the latest sad sad news

Of innocent victims and brutality of vile beheading

Of the danger of escalation in far off lands

And how it could reach even our peaceful land

Then, as if by chance, we realised what we were saying

For little time ago, a question of ten decades and no more

Here on the very ground we trod

A hostility of unseen dimension

Had claimed the lives of young and tender boys

Forced up high by the ruling classes that were

‘Led to slaughter’ is putting it rather mild

Such was the horror and end they went smilingly to meet

And now, just 5 score years on, we are using this very terrain

As an example of how things should be, there elsewhere

How this heavenly place should serve to calm and temper angry minds

And yet when I go real deep down in my mind

I dread to think what a poet will be obliged to write

In just a flash of a century from our time

Will he tell of tales of woe or will there be a brilliant light shining around

As for the little self that I am, all I can tempt to do

Is listen to my inner silence, recall my lines of a day or two ago

‘’I had never been spoke to in such an intimate manner

Clarity and meaning waving and entering my very soul’’

Using them as a force for what I conceive as the greater good

Realising that nature and nature alone can be our saviour

Praying the Lord to have his way and lead one and all safely to another day

Personal take

It must have been a good hike as it produced two poems – the first and this second!

The first is entitled ‘Never a truer word spoken’ and is to be found in my first book RAW 2525 This second is very much a contemporary poem and one which marks the centenary of the First World War – a time when the cry of ‘a call to arms’ never had a bloodier hand. Reckless, remorseless, and unforgiving were the consequences of man’s actions and the beauty of the mountain landscape became the setting for untold suffering. A poem need not necessarily relate what happened but at times poetry has the unenviable task of highlighting the consequences of war, the detestable side of the human spirit, and the utter despair it can produce. Never should we tamper with nature for nature will win the day, never should we choose the grandeur of nature for the theatre of a conflict, never should we let humanity err on the side of wrongdoing. Yet, it is all likely to happen again – unless man can listen to the words of poetry and regain a humble chair at the side of nature.

The poem is singular in that is an account of a day in the mountains and the thoughts which overcame me. Poetry has the capacity to relate the innermost thought and provides an intimacy between writer and reader which is almost bond-like. Simplicity and frankness are at the heart of the equation and in this instance I will leave comments on technique adopted for you the reader

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