Lockdown

Lift your spirits by reading this beautiful poem by Brother Richard ~ 

Lockdown ~ (A Poem by Brother Richard) ~

Yes there is fear.
Yes there is isolation.
Yes there is panic buying.
Yes there is sickness.
Yes there is even death.
But,
They say that in Wuhan after so many years of noise
You can hear the birds again.
They say that after just a few weeks of quiet
The sky is no longer thick with fumes
But blue and grey and clear.
They say that in the streets of Assisi
People are singing to each other
across the empty squares,
keeping their windows open
so that those who are alone
may hear the sounds of family around them.
They say that a hotel in the West of Ireland
Is offering free meals and delivery to the housebound.
Today a young woman I know
is busy spreading fliers with her number
through the neighbourhood
So that the elders may have someone to call on.
Today Churches, Synagogues, Mosques and Temples
are preparing to welcome
and shelter the homeless, the sick, the weary
All over the world people are slowing down and reflecting
All over the world people are looking at their neighbours in a new way
All over the world people are waking up to a new reality
To how big we really are.
To how little control we really have.
To what really matters.
To Love.
So we pray and we remember that
Yes there is fear.
But there does not have to be hate.
Yes there is isolation.
But there does not have to be loneliness.
Yes there is panic buying.
But there does not have to be meanness.
Yes there is sickness.
But there does not have to be disease of the soul
Yes there is even death.
But there can always be a rebirth of love.
Wake to the choices you make as to how to live now.
Today, breathe.
Listen, behind the factory noises of your panic
The birds are singing again
The sky is clearing,
Spring is coming,
And we are always encompassed by Love.
Open the windows of your soul
And though you may not be able
to touch across the empty square,
Sing.

March 13th 2020  ~ Brother Richard

This is a beautiful poem written by Brother Richard from a monastery in Ireland. It is simply beautiful! I was sent to me by someone who is my Mentor in horse training. It apparently has been shared on Facebook (I am not on Facebook so do not know). That said, it is such a beautiful, poignant and moving poem, that I just felt compelled to share it at these uncertain times. Hope you engage with it the way I did! Am sure you will! With the Easter weekend here, this poem gives a wonderful message!

Burnt Toast

I burnt the toast.

Forgot to watch;

Blackened smoke,

Nearly choked.

 

Silly me

Forgot to watch;

I burnt the toast,

Nearly roast.

 

Silly me

Forgot to watch

Burning bread

Almost dead.

© Liola Lee 2006

This short poem was long listed in the Bridport Prize 2006 

It was inspired by a real life incident. This short poem was based in truth! Who would have thought that those few short verses would have had any impact! But they did! The Bridport Prize is wonderful competition for everyone!

 

 

Virus

Yellow and bright, a flowering might,

Daffodils, Narcissi, Forsythia,

Blooming bold, Nature’s gold.

Trees in bud, leaves glowing green,

Spring awakening, a sight to be seen.

Winter behind us, Summer ahead

This time now, heavy as lead.

A virus moving, globally spread,

Sneaking among us, making some dead.

We know you are there, laying your curse,

For some not felt, for others a hearse.

I think it’s time to rise and say,

A cure we’ll find, beyond delay.

The World Unite, be as One,

become connected, work to be done.

We all have a duty of care to attend;

if as a race we want this to end.

 

© Liola Lee 2020

We are all in this together! Let’s support each other and work together to overcome this! Stop the panic buying, there is enough for everyone if we just shop as normal! Keep your distance and stay at home, unless it is absolutely necessary to go out for the reasons given by the Government! Help those who need help! Think before you buy! Think before you go out to the shops, to the park, to anywhere really. We can beat this if we all pull together! And remember, there is always someone worse off than you! Get things into perspective! Show loving kindness to everyone, and help whenever you can! 

Blessed be!

Liola x

 

Here and there ~ Part 2

In those early joyous days,

in times long gone now far away;

rational reason still to gain;

thought from heart, vacant brain.

‘I think, therefore I am’ once said

a Philosopher released long dead.

Stranger thoughts have been conveyed,

to minds quite thwarted, yet unmade.

Arise my champions, grown from seed;

come do battle, help me please.

Guide me forward, abolish greed.

Worthy warriors – blessings all;

hear my summon, heed my call.

First, I call on Courage, request that you endorse,

strength of conviction combined with force.

Allied with Courage, I plan to battle,

confront rage, withdraw, shake, rattle.

You Knowledge gathered,

learned, studied, read

facts in abundance

inside my head.

Present said facts in single file,

prioritise, order, self-denial.

Knowledge deployed strategically well;

informed reaction rings all bells;

Maturity, age, time well observed

Wisdom to Knowledge help and preserve.

Faith, I now ask you,

stay make your way

to front this army,

coloured not grey.

Grant us that feeling,

kindred spirit named Hope;

silencing doubts,

fears envelope.

Put paid to the worries,

an end to the fears;

give Strength to make Courage;

a future more years.

© Liola Lee 2007

Part 2 of a 3 part poem

Here and there ~ Part 1

When sky was blue and sea was green and sun gave light to day:

knights in shining armour rode against the four Winds,

on quests to do battle for honour and love.

Serpents, Dragons and Unicorns were more than meat for myth;

Gorgons, Giants, Olympians and time as yet unmade.

Here in the land of make-believe, when Night’s not Night but Day.

The journey starts, here in the heart, with the sin that got in the way.

About to embark on a journey, to a time a long way off:

to a place now long forgotten- where growth went stale and

goodness started to rot.

We must form a company of seven to march forth on and back;

to slip beneath the surface, tread the severed track.

The pathway lost, all overgrown with weeds, pain, hurt, all cracked.

Perils so enormous – danger within packed.

Traps man-made and man-made traps; rising sons, scythes and sickles –

beings bestial, beings fickle.

Routes un-chartered, map’s unclear – even just the faintest fear

will Cerberus sense in nostrils flared, plural heads, intense glare;

eyes of black, there is no end, hound of Hell, not man’s best friend.

Guards the mouth to Hades, grossly heads the fleet –

appetite abundant, human flesh his meat.

If, beyond this point we reach, seven soldiers, whole complete –

the time has come, so gather round,

take your orders spirit bound.

Pay the price to cross the Styx, blackest waters, depths unfold,

Death’s own graveyard, wasted gold.

The Ferryman, lank, forlorn, on the raft, his will us borne.

A silver coin upon his tongue, no eyes, no soul, essence gone.

Step on board, take care, no rush, steady goes or bodies crush.

The Captain of this eerie craft: a pole so long for to shaft,

the way ahead, Ship Ahoy! Hades fed.

Slowly, so slowly doth the deadwood drift

across the ocean wide: shore ahead as groom to bride.

Impending union of land and sea as wedding duet, he and she.

Tide is high, Moon is full – Night’s black cloak – feel it pull.

Now on shore, Earth’s sweet skin: Life’s tough journey re-begin.

Wedding over, vows exchanged: Is it safe now? Prearranged?

Life’s a gamble, a game of chance; no guarantees who leads the dance.

“I am the Lord of the Dance” said He. Who?  God, Satan, maybe me?

Get a hold, be brazen, bold, take the helm, in charge, controlled.

Exasperation, puzzled mind, confused state left behind.

If my ship I should steer straight, exist to my will or that of fate?

Attention soldiers stand up, stand tall; tied together, defend from fall.

Ahead the enemy, not friend but foe, disguised donned dangerous, doom in tow.

Debates, decisions still unclear; facts fictitious, fictitious fears.

Where is help, support I need? Solve this problem answer feed.

In early childhood, gently led  by parents loving, broken bread;

wine of wisdom, blood of kin, knowledge stinted, no thought to sin.

Innocence unblemished beneath the raven curl,

unveiled inner beauty, reveals a precious pearl.

It matters not the cover – external binding shell;

It’s what’s within – discover.

The guiding light not Hell.

© Liola Lee 2007

This was Part 1 of  a poem I wrote in 3 parts . A sort of epic tale (I use the word epic loosely). I hope you enjoy it.