The Honey GathererA Poem by JohnL
Gathered Honey
I stay my hand, laying aside the turmoil of day,
hearing secret messages of night and time
rotate, in spheres of silence.
Voices that have no voice
save the turning of my mind,
inaudible to my ear yet burning,
heard only deep inside.
Essence, distilling
to fuel the coming day
from vapours of the past.
Diary, journal, beyond the transient limits
of mere words.
More perhaps, eternal -
or nearly so, drawing on time’s
experience -
man’s impulse to survive, that placed
the not yet swollen hand
of earth’s first honey-gatherer
into the world’s first hive.
John L. Berry – circa 1985
© 2008 JohnLReviews
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3 Reviews Added on July 9, 2008 AuthorJohnLWirral Peninsula, United KingdomAboutI live in England, and love the English countryside, the music of Elgar and Holst which describes it so beautifully and the poetry of John Clare, the 'peasant poet' and Gerard Manley Hopkins, which d.. more..Writing
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