Peter Lilly: Poems

Muted, we watched as the cheshire cat's teeth morphed from pearly white, through plaque yellow, to blood red. As the sickle moon descended into its silent grave in the horizon. Written September 2015. My wife and I were traveling  from Lyon to Montpellier, with some rather awkward covoiturage companions. The sickle blood-moon was ominous and haunting in the silent journey, and I penned this as well as I could in the pitch black of the car. 

Listening to directions  From a drunk man, Whilst trying to read a map In the light of a half moon. Progress is slo w . Written in 2009.  Persistence in the key!

What becomes of us? Circling our ambitions in tentative pigeon steps, not awaiting permission but opportunity, which some take as the same thing. Anticipation takes our breath until we are light-headed, spinning, it repeats and repeats. I wish this circle was a spiral, but I recognise my tracks, our tracks in the flattened grass and compressed dirt. Our internal voices circle our potential like hungry vultures, waiting to pick the bones of what might have been, in the approval of regret. A Poem written as an encouragement for endurance. It's difficult to start new initiatives, to build something sustainable that is in the image of something greater than yourself, to live a Christlike life. Laying foundations feels like walking in circles. But these foundations are important and it is right that it takes time! For, to build without foundations is to build in ignorance, a fatalistic and pointless exercise in egotistical squan...