Regret

BEFORE A YAWNING HOLE    (a poem of regret)

A  HOLE YOU  MAY NAME IT,

A CHASM YET ANOTHER NAME,

APPROPRIATE THAT WHICH MEANS WIDEST,

AND ALAS,MOST FORBIDDING.

BOTTOMLESS,EDGELESS,FORMLESS,

IT MAY YET BE NAMED A YAWNING,

STRETCHING HOLE,

STRETCHED BY THE HANDS OF TIME,

AND BY UTTERANCES.

ALAS,IT IS BEFORE THIS CHASM I FIND MYSELF,

EYES OPEN,REGRET SEIZES,

EYES CLOSED,DREAMINESS,

HAD I BUT KNOWN,

I WOULD NOT HAVE DUG THE TRENCH,

WITHOUT EYES TO THE MORROW,

IN DIGGING WAS I INSPIRED,

BY NOTHING SHORT OF A RAGING FIRE.

AND WHEN EVE’S CHILD LOOKS TO THE ASHES,

SHE CAN SEE THE OBJECTS OF THE CONFLAGRATION,

OBJECTS TINGED WITH  FRAGMENTS OF A HEART,

PRIMITIVE FIRE IS DOWN AND BEATEN,

RECOGNIZABLE

,

IN THE FAINT SUNTINGED WOODS AHEAD,

WHEN LOADS OF SAND,

MAY ARISE TO BEAT THE CHASM SO WIDE,

AND AMENDS MADE. AS HERS.

OH! WHAT HAVE I DONE.

LOOKING BEYOND,

THERE MAY YET COME A TIME

BUT OUGHT I TO HARBOUR SUCH HOPES,

THIS GULF STRETCHES EVEN FURTHER…

                  Author ; Ursula Joseph