Love and light

Events over the last few days in Orlando to West Yorkshire have sent many of us in tears and asking for answers we do not even know how to formulate the questions to beyond the simplest ‘why’. It is times like this that can bring us together in love and grief but equally tear us apart in hate as wave the finger of blame with a thirst for revenge; there is enough blood being spilt worldwide right now without us adding to it.
Consider for a minute why do we paint a sky one shade of blue or grass one shade of green, when they are many different shades? Just as these events are done by one grey shade of humanity that does not mean they represent all of us; nor for example will every person that worships an afro haired Martian called Bob will do extreme things such yarn bombing trees, some are happy to knit hats and scarves in their homes.
Now pick up your matches or lighter, not for a fire but to light a candle, and let us set off a light beacon of love and hope throughout the world, driving out those that want us to live in fearful and hateful darkness. Then pick up your phone to ring, text, email or Facebook those you love to remind them just how special they are to you and do this often as today is now, where as tomorrow is a whisper but not a promise to anyone.
© Fi S. J. Brown
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The rivers of war

Out from London Tower a river of red blood falls,
In memory of the fallen in wars now history books.
Each poppy is to mark a life taken far too soon,
A Sacrifice in freedom’s name for each one of us.

If we look the poppies are not just red of blood,
There are hidden colours that need to be seen.
Stems of green showing the jealousy and envy.
And black of the darkness and fear war brings.

Across the world there are many hidden rivers,
Filled with tears of pain, anger and depression.
And turned red with the blood spilt in revenge,
But where is the white of love, peace and hope?

© Fi S. J. Brown

Tales of a city

This city is full of dark whispers and lies of fifty shades of grey,
Echoes from childhood still ring out in malevolent laughter.
As she traps me with her seven invisible craggy walls of green,
And strangers act as judge with the streets as their courts.
Shadows filled with the beating of her cold and bitter heart,
That loves and loathes all that come to see her ageless beauty.

Locals say I sing the song of far away lands and not hers,
It’s not from here as do not know the lyrics nor want to learn.
As rumours swirl in the wind that is her invisible breath of life,
Making fools of many as she can as one of her many games.
Some days it is impossible to tell real and what is a reflection,
And scared to shatter the glass for fear of getting hurt again.

She calls me back whenever I leave her as wants me to stay,
But I stopped loving her many years ago now want a divorce.
Freedom from her endless suffocation and choking hands,
To look through the eyes of a stranger at her from a distance.
As I wipe away the rain as like tears falling from my face,
And wishing one day to find where my song’s home really is.

© Fi S. J. Brown

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Autumn – the multisensory season

Listening to the rain falling on autumnal leaves,
Like tears trickling down a clown’s tired cheek.
One a pulsating beat to dance long into the night,
The other ghost notes with no discernible pitch.

Watching the leaves turn from greens to reds,
Like traffic lights but few stop and wait a while.
One a sight of natural beauty for all the senses,
The other to warn of man made jungle dangers.

Seeing the leaves are individual shapes and sizes,
Like all human beings are all over Planet Earth.
One a mixture that few recognise the differences,
The other many want to change to look the same.

Look as well as listen, watch and see this autumn,
Like a child experiencing its magic for the first time.
One will awaken your senses to the whole world,
The other will bring you happiness outside and in.

© Fi S. J. Brown

Autumn in Pitlochry