death

Together United

/ Stefan Nicholson / Leave a comment

I watched with a sad heart the other day, wondering what I could do or say, to help you find your way, to lift your spirits and share with you my take, on how to work with that what seems, if that what seems is fake.

For you know the seas will surely rise and wars will soon be fought, but there will never be an answer if you bury all these thoughts.

Yet by rising up together, you can demand a speedy change, from all those folks with power – not one an honest sage.

There is always strength in numbers, to show united might. Now wouldn’t that in concert, be a shining light – to sing together the anthem of refreshing youth. To raise the stakes to seek exacting truth, even though they will fight to keep their greed. Your hearts and minds will have set the seed.

For your time is here and now – and together we must rise to demand they act to save our world – rise up to fight their lies.

(c) Stefan Nicholson

Notes: We live in a turbulent world. History shows that the people will always rise up and fight against dictators, bullies and tyrants. This can be done by voting them out or punishing them through legal channels. Violence merely leads us into accepting a new unruly successor.

TIMELESS

/ Stefan Nicholson

Time!

What is time? 

If not a countdown within the continuum, not withstanding its varied pace,

It is also the vacuum in which we think we are awake,

As sleep is a state unknown, in as much as whether it even exists.

For we wake each new day afresh . . . perhaps . . . or, maybe start anew,

With altered form and memories, by some random thoughts, within an empty mind.

And time is merely a distraction,

Enhanced by our timepieces and natural cycles, to make us feel we exist at all.

When all we do is think . . . in the moment . . . forever.

Time is just some simple, unexpected consequence.

Merely moments of being . . . With unintended, instantaneous thoughts . . . . . . .

(from my book: “Introverted Moments” – available on Amazon)

Lest we forget . . .

/ Stefan Nicholson

Strayley Anne

Hayley was a wild child – bright, yet inwardly dark,

Smiling, kind and thoughtful – honesty was her mark.

Much older beyond her years she seemed

While others chose greed she observed and dreamed

About what folks wished they were, not are,

No time to cast their thoughts afar.

She saw folks willing to share all and give.

Others poor, sick and troubled – just dying to live.

Some giving in too easily with a careless wistful sigh,

Yet soldiers fight for them to live –we honour where they die.

So young Hayley tried with all her might,

To protect our world from lack of foresight.

For they lay where they fell on foreign ground in Fromelles,

“And none shall forget this,” so this Australian would tell

As she forged her ground from those who fought there,

Feeling through her compassion as their souls were laid bare.

Changed her name to sound patriotically strong and proud,

To Strayley-Anne. Reborn to rise up above the crowd.

“Lest we forget,” she would sigh for those she had never met,

As if listening to their orders to stand fast and to protect.

Then wondered if they would smile or frown from the darkness where they lay,

Or cry out loudly with angry words, to make us “Go away!”.