Treasure Island

Michael Wride

(December,5th 1968 / Wells, Somerset, England, UK)

Frozen Spirits

The mournful sound of the fog horn out in the bay
A sad sigh for humanity's failings
Snow flakes falling
Frozen tears
As eerie as they are beautiful

Like their spirits
Hidden within
Yearning for freedom
And Truth

This is the beginning of great change
Amidst the silence
Snatched out of the freezing air
By the snow

Warm words will come
To fill the whole of humanity with joy
And the frozen landscape will thaw

You will heal this Earth of yours
And the shoots will rise again from the snow
Bringing hope to all mankind
And the recognition of love and the truth always

Submitted: Saturday, January 26, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Dark winter days can be difficult can't they, but there is something beautiful about the snow. I wrote this poem in January 2011. I was walking to the DART station in Glenageary, South Dublin and the fog horn sounded from Dublin Bay so clearly - this gave me the first line of the poem as the snow flakes fell down. I had an overwhelming feeling of stillness and a sense of pristine beauty as well as a feeling that things are changing and that there is a lot of hope for the future because now is the time when the true spirit of humanity will begin to reveal itself.

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