Living Separate Is A Kind Of Hell (Sestina) Poem by Gert Strydom

I
Coming into the valley there are three distinct ways
and one I see but two of them are totally out of sight
on foggy days but can be seen on the open sunny days,
while outside it's as dim as if in the falling kind of light,
while in the rain outside still the birds do God praise,
and in the distance is the big sold dark hill at its height.

II
My love is at my hearts breadth, depth and its height
where it comes to you in all the words, deeds and ways
that can bring you happiness, respect and great praise,
even in the unsaid things that remains out of sight,
where you face and eyes do glow as if with an own light,
where you do enchant and liven up my days

III
and here in this lovely vale without you I have days
where it is as this kind of pain is at its height
and from this separation between us there is no light,
where our lives had gone in their different ways
and without you the future seems dim and out of sight,
where for this kind of life there is no praise

IV
but daily I pray for us both and still do God praise,
pray that He in omnipotence would straighten our days,
where He is my friend but holy and out of sight,
lives far off glorious, are respected on His height,
but right here do daily care in many small ways,
are for me the direction and in life the light.

V
I wish that you could experience with me the morning light,
that with the different birds we could together God praise,
where nature has a great beauty in almost all of its ways,
where we could wander through the veldt on sunny days,
could climb the mountain up to its highest height
and all of the town and countryside would be a sight.

VI
In your new life our love for each other might be out of sight,
where in your work you are constantly in the light,
are now at your career's ultimate impressive height
and people do you daily impress, admire and praise,
where only work and some more work are in your days,
where we do both view life in totally different ways.

VII l'Envoi
Writing this you call and do me praise, say my poetry is at its height,
you say you have our love and my words in sight, in dusk's fading light,
promise to compensate in many ways that you will be here in three more days.

© Gert Strydom