The Concrete Path

The crickets keep the beat,
as songs flood through me,
my feet hit the silent concrete.
Setting the stage; I am not worthy.

How many years has it known?
What fears has it seen?
Which behemoths has it enthroned?
Maybe walking alone, perhaps unknown.

It sits in constant disrepair,
as pairs and figures take it as a flat stair.
Flat stares are all it receives.
Nothing special,
nothing seen.

Until the brave muse finds
a certain sought of peace confined
within these stony halls,
so many meanings,
and many more years have crawled.

Does it rest or does it shake?
This motionless beast,
this defenceless drake.
Six of them sailing the seven seas
perhaps have never witnessed as many memories;
of which these man made giants believe
to be the essence of humanity.

Walking to and fro,
from whence we come
to where we go.

They utter not a sound,
nor a frown nor do they judge our bound,
short or long, they echo our song
of nothing; a blind bards song:

How can he sing of war and peace?
When nothing has ever graced his sight.
This marvel gives a lofty grease,
to the machinations I see this night.

‘Right’ and ‘Wrong’
throbs through my brain,
yet I am too young to sing this song,
singing it now would sound so vain.

So many challenges await my name,
and so many may dampen my spirits like rain,
yet just as the rain gives growth to nature,
I too shall grow in fame and stature.

Fear may keep the rain from hitting the roots,
like a well made yet misplaced roof.
Yet I cannot let this head the truth.
I won’t let my self be led aloof.

Just as this path guides the hoof
of many a man who dreamt a night,
where the path rose to him in sight,
and so he followed it for it held him so tight.

As I gazed upwards this time,
I realised that this path was right.
and I realised, with a silent smile, that this truth was mine.
As the clouds flowed over the moon so bright – giving it time to realise its light.