Summer Seeking

Summer seeking
somewhere over the horizon
under a foreign sun
The warm neopolitan nights
revealing  northern stars
Gazing at a stranger moon
bearing ancient scars
At a loss …
the Southern Cross
even the Milky Way
seem to have somehow
all gone astray?

On the Cinque Terre
on the Costa Brava
the poor boy from Australia
unplugged from Vernazza
to Barcelona
A burnt out phone
for reasons unknown
But yet,
‘Like A Rolling Stone’
out from a speaker
above the bar
The words as seen
in visions and dreams
even poetry
syncopating synchronicity
From the watchtower
watching over you
Watching over me

The seconds
the minutes
this very hour
A word
a seed set free
as in the arms
of a higher power …
“Children of grace
In whom I delight
lovers of justice
knowing true mercy
Seekers of the light
I know all your needs
I see your deeds
I know the desire
of your deepest heart
Near or far
do not fear
I am with you always
So just raise
your sights higher”

The condition human
lives of quiet desperation
Hope gone
Faith floundering
Watered down love
polluted and abused
Upon the ocean
plastic floating
Boats of rubber
overloaded and capsizing
Across the Mediterranean
life is drowning

At the Louvre
the Moaning Lisa
she is not amused
In a queue
tour groups du jour
all seeking a cure
through visions
of eternal perfection
That dazzling lure
Without the knowing
of the what for
and the wherewithal
for what they endure
Life … in the choosing

And what’s more
inwards breathing
outwards dreaming
Visions of beauty pure
Fellow traveller
of a token totem
and broken scheming
on a magical mystery tour
Don’t be taken
heading for a fall
‘Tis only love that is pure
Not the Siren’s call
Unearthly beauty
bathing in the presence
Saints and Martyrs
for honour and duty
All heroes true
battling super villains
and monsters
Beseeching the Big Heavenly

Angels of man’s higher nature
time and tide revealing
The waters disturbing
seeking resolution
Searching for redemption
The giving …
to be living
a slow and steady salvation
Looking beyond creed and colour
and seeing the divine design
in one another

Rambling
from Tuscany to Spain
from Barcelona to Paris
riding second class
in a very fast train
Yet totally right royal
in a Wi-Fi glass carriage
Walking La Rambla
haunting  littered streets
in the refugee rain
to the Café Le Titanic
next to the fish market
by the River Seine

Europa becoming
a beggar’s banquet
upon a cardboard mattress
with newspapers for a blanket
Coins collected
in a cup of plastic
Of their suffering
I know nothing
Their plight
on the road of flight
fleeing their ancestral home
In peril of barrel bombs
blowing in the wind
from chemical weapons
Soaked to the heartbroken bone
in the refugee rain
With dictators dictating
Is freedom ever a choice?
The ghosts of vengeful justice
all given full voice
as the present is condemned
by the unforgiving past

I know nothing
of their pain
behind a veil torn by war
Reaching for the light
to where freedom
is a hard won right
Liberté Égalité Fraternité
How could they ever
know the score
to find the open door
whilst held firm
in the shackles
of some Neolithic law?
From desert track
to rainforest ruin
under the shadow
of a crescent moon
Who is calling the shots?
Who is playing the tune?
The West’s
freedom of expression
seen dimly by those who
detest and choose to use it
as a licence for hateful action
Is modern history
again to be written
by the blood soaked victors
of divisive
and archaic religion?

This world divided
and out of order
Razor wire fences
at the militarized border
From Saint Peter’s Basilica
to Notre Dame Cathedral
camouflaged soldiers on patrol
From Chicago to Aleppo
violence gone viral
Who is pushing the buttons ?
Who is making the choices?

Under layers of graffiti
crumbling into dust
former glories of Empire
coming home to roost
“Excusez – moi”
a big stash of cash I don’t have
All I can do is say
beyond tradition and old religion
we all need a new testamental
complete with a love resurrection
For God so loved the world
that He sent us the way
We have his word
Be under his sway
The longing within
as if to say   …
“Be belonging to Him
For we too can be heroes
forever … and a day”

~ by David B. Redpath © 2017 – 19

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Photography;
David & Linda Redpath © 2017

79 thoughts on “Summer Seeking”

  1. Oh GOD: David. This one made me sob. As it should all of us. Just SOB. I ask, all the time, where Resurrection is. I mean…TRUE resurrection. Resurrection is in me, in you, in the God in US. But where has He GONE? Love. We need LOVE. For a better world. For a better world.

    Liked by 3 people

    Reply

    1. ‘Will I ever learn
      that there’ll be no peace,
      that the war won’t cease
      Until He returns ?
      Like a thief in the night,
      he’ll replace wrong with right
      When he returns.’
      ~ Bob Dylan

      In the meantime, BeeZeeGee,
      I guess it’s up to us.

      Liked by 6 people

      Reply

      1. It is, David. Sadly, most don’t realise that the thing for which we seek is in our own hands. We long for it, we say, yet how many are prepared to love enough to bring about the heart’s desire?

        Liked by 2 people

  2. “(good) reason to get excited
    The thief (s)he kindly spoke
    There are many here among us
    Who feel that life is but a joke
    But, uh, but you and I, we’ve been through that
    And this is not our fate
    So (please keep talkin’ truly) now
    The hour’s getting late, hey…”
    So beautiful. Pulled me in, touched my heart, reminded me of core truths. Thank you David. And thank you Linda — I love the photos, too. I have never been to Paris, but it feels like I visited a little bit this morning. Le sigh. “Paris is always a good idea,” so Audrey says. ♥.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    1. I believe that conversation,
      between the joker and the
      thief, was actually Bob Dylan
      talking to himself, somewhere
      within a guarded facility.
      But don’t tell anyone I said that, Niki.
      It could be a private affair.
      Like Sabrina, the school girl,
      returning from Paris as
      Audrey Hepburn.
      Travel broadens the mind,
      they say. I try to stick to the
      straight and narrow, like a
      loosened arrow.

      Liked by 3 people

      Reply

      1. Really? I won’t tell but it’s fascinating to think of it. Sabrina is my fave Hepburn I think. I hope to see Paris some day, especially the Louvre ! – but, for now I’m content to do it vicariously. Really cool poem comment. It’s not easy to be spontaneously creative. ♥.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Ha! You read my mind re combustion. It’s so like that sometimes. Too bad I gave up cigs (not) – I’d have the required combo for a creative storm today – coffee, smokes, very little sleep and great conversation! =) ♥.

        Liked by 1 person

      5. Oh Dail’s in DC.
        I’d leave the Louvre too
        to find those two.
        Meanwhile…
        1 Rue de la Légion d’Honneur, 75007 Paris, France
        for Femme au balcon and La Buveuse d’absinthe
        and (wow) 88 Monet.
        Yay for Musée d’Orsay.

        Liked by 2 people

  8. Thank you for sharing your trips and thoughts that go with. At the very end, that god has sent us the way, through his words. Well I see it as god threw us away in this Hunger Games roman coliseum style. Really thought provoking, as usual. I imagine you writing this on a train, while travelling.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    1. Planes, trains, and automobiles.
      Thanks for the contemplative
      comments.
      Usually it’s ‘the Man’ who throws people into the
      Colosseum. Never a part
      of the original plan.

      Like

      Reply

  10. David, I come back to your poems again and again. I don’t know how you do it. There is a gem in each line – and your poems are loooooong! They are absolutely amazing. This one draws me back and back. I love that song too. I play it often on my Native American Indian flute. Beautiful

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    1. Like a Rolling Lorraine,
      on Native American flute,
      is now playing in my brain.
      Thank you, BeeZeeGee, for
      coming back to my Highway
      of Bloggery again & again.
      Like your own poetry,
      to write it, you first have to
      live it. Very glad, with you,
      to share it.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. Oh I LOVE your poetry David. I just HAD to try and find your site again today. For God’s sake don’t ever stop writing!

        Liked by 1 person

      3. I absolutely agree with you David. After I went into remission from cancer, there was so little that I could do. I felt useless. I stay in bed most of the day because I have to. So, feeling so useless when I used to be so active, I was crying. I told God how useless I was now. And He told me to WRITE. I had always written. But I had not the courage to put it out there. I did not think my writing was good enough. However, I made up some poetry books and people loved them. So then I got inspired to start a Blog. I had no idea about blogging at all lol. It has paid off. Though I had to be patient. But I was wondering where you had gone to because my mail was not saying you had posted recently. So I looked for your site, feeling quite worried. I thought you might have stopped posting. Please don’t EVER do that. You are unique and I love your work x

        Liked by 1 person

  11. Your story is truly worth
    the sharing. I read all your
    posts but find words often fail me, to comment.
    WordPress recently has been
    ‘unfollowing’ sites. I thought
    it was just me stuffing up,
    or possibly ‘red-flagged’ as
    a trouble maker’, but others have been mentioning the same problem.
    Thank you Lorraine for
    keeping me in your zany,
    flea bitten, loop.

    Like

    Reply

  14. Powerful, clear witness, David. So many have fallen silent for fear, for cowardice, for exhaustion, for simply not having the words. Thanks for yours.

    And thanks for the photos. Paris me manque. Sarah

    Liked by 3 people

    Reply

    1. Thank you most continentally, Sarah.
      I miss Paris too, but in the Spring, or the Autumn. Sadly, it’s too Parisian busy
      in the Summer.
      Yes, there’s a slow motion global tragedy
      being played out, and nowhere is there
      true peace, safety, and shelter.

      Like

      Reply

      1. In our hearts, in our minds, in our actions, in our words, in our intentions, in our houses, is there true peace and shelter. Expanding outwards in concentric circles from our efforts, our example.

        Which is why I appreciate your work which, look, has reached to so many places including my little abode not far from the Atlantic Ocean on a continent far from you. So many thanks! Sarah

        Liked by 3 people

  16. It’s so wonderful to be seeing the world through your eyes, HEART and SOUL, David and Linda! Thank you so much for sharing the translations your brilliant minds produce concerning this great adventure! Sending the Sweetest of Blessings from my HEART to yours, Betty 💞

    Liked by 3 people

    Reply

    1. Received upon the ether
      (including social media 😎)
      thank you exceedingly, Betty 🙏
      Linda & I feel already very blessed
      to have the opportunity to travel,
      and attempt to unravel the mystery,
      the wonder, and the trevail,
      of this journey called life.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  17. The world is increasingly chaotic which you caught with your words and pictures. First one (a collage?) feels like summer in the city. I have been a penniless wanderer in Europe – exciting but also a bit dangerous. Course, that way long before cell phones, etc.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    1. Glad you made it back, JT.
      The best that could happen is
      deciding to stay. Perhaps Greece,
      France, or Italy 🇬🇷 🇫🇷 🇮🇹
      My phone got fried by the Spanish
      current on this particular trip.
      So Linda lost her phone, to a good
      cause, with every art gallery visit 😎
      The top pic was just me trying out the
      things you can do with a Snapseed app.

      Like

      Reply

  18. Excellent photos as always, David.

    And another masterful piece of writing from your hands, David- stones of prose wrapped in a sling of poetry with which to slay the Goliath of intolerance standing high above the worldly plains.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

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